


The Highest Bidder

by ktface3



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktface3/pseuds/ktface3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss Everdeen, the sole victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games, is sold into prostitution to keep her family safe. Her first buyer? A young Captiol celebrichef named Peeta Mellark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Hunger Games series belongs to Suzanne Collins. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> A million thanks to Phantom Serenity (on FF.net) for her beta work!!!

Katniss Everdeen stood out on the balcony of the penthouse suite in one of the Capitol’s swankiest hotels. Slowly, she reached her fingers out past the railing, and then jerked them back once she felt the sting of the invisible force field engage.

There went her last hope.

She could still throw herself off, of course, but the force field would send her flying back into the room, most likely badly injured and twitching from the shock. And then what would her buyer say? He—or she, Katniss supposed, that kind of thing did happen here in the Capitol—would be furious that the body they paid good money for had been ruined.

Snow would probably not kill her. Most likely the ones to suffer would be her family—her mother, and Prim. Just like what he did to Johanna.

Katniss stormed inside the penthouse, furious about the predicament she was in. Her mind drifted again to the crowning of the victor ceremony, and the words that haunted her…

_Katniss stood in a glowing yellow dress, her hair let down in waves, waiting to go up onstage to be crowned the Victor of the 74 th annual Hunger Games. Her stomach was in knots—after all, she’d have to watch a recap of the Games, and she wondered to herself why experiencing it firsthand wasn’t torturous enough for Snow and the Capitol. All she wanted to do was to go home to her mother and Prim._

_Just suffer through a little more, she thought. Then you can leave and never look back._

_Suddenly, someone forcefully grabbed Katniss’ arm from behind. Still in killing-mode, she swung around, ready to slaughter whoever it was that would dare to touch her like that, but she stopped when she saw it was only Haymitch, her drunken mentor._

_He was looking extra drunk today._

_“Come with me, sweetheart,” he murmured, and dragged her further backstage to a dark corner. He spun her around and steadied himself on her shoulders. “Listen,” he began, “Snow isn’t very happy with you. You know you caused a riot in 11, don’t you?”_

_This was news to Katniss. Of course she hadn’t heard anything about that, she’d had no way to obtain any outside information. She wasn’t surprised though, after she decorated Rue in flowers before the hovercraft snatched her up and took her away._

_“The stunts you pulled in there were treasonous,” Haymitch told her, shaking her shoulders a little for emphasis. “And you better believe Snow’s going to make you pay for it.”_

_“Wh—what do you mean?” Katniss asked, suddenly worried about her family. She had heard rumors of things that happened to the families of victors who don’t behave themselves. She had thought even Haymitch had suffered such a fate, but she had never wanted to ask him._

_“Sweetheart, you’re a young, beautiful, vibrant young lady. You’re very desirable here in the Capitol, and I’m sure Snow won’t miss out on making you available to those who are willing to pay enough.”_

_Katniss’s breath caught in her throat. Was he talking about…?_

_She had heard of rumors like that too, but it had never crossed her mind that_ she _would end up with that fate. After all, none of the boys in District 12 ever paid her any attention. Even Gale, her best friend, had made it clear right away, all those years ago, that he wasn’t attracted to her. She’d had a silly, schoolgirl crush on him when they first started hunting together, but once she admitted it to him, he explained how he enjoyed her company, but could never love her ‘in that way.’ Not wanting to lose the chance to work together for continued survival, she got over it, reminding herself that she didn’t want a husband or a family anyway._

_And so after being somewhat of an outcast all her life, ignored by pretty much everyone, Katniss was having a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact that she was wanted in the Capitol ‘in that way.’ Her stomach churned at the thought of who could possibly want to buy her—old men looking for something young and frisky, or maybe it was those men who enjoyed sex that was kinkier and more violent. That somehow made sense to her, that there were men out there who sexualized the senseless killing that was celebrated every year._

_“Look,” Haymitch interrupted her ruminating, “you’ve started something with what you did in the arena—the mercy and compassion you showed to those other tributes is making people really think about what the Games stand for, and if they agree with that stance. You’ve ignited a spark that is slowly building, which is why you need to be extra careful or else Snow will make you pay. But me and the other victors will be there to step in if things get out of hand. Got it?”_

_Katniss nodded her head mechanically, and then a stagehand called for she and Haymitch to line up for their entrances._

Haymitch’s words spun around in her mind as she stood in the beautiful penthouse suite: ‘you need to be extra careful or else Snow will make you pay.’ A shiver ran down her spine as she thought of the dangers the other victors had warned her about—what had indeed happened to Finnick, and Johanna, and even Haymitch as a result of their own treasonous behavior. How Katniss would need to submit and appear obedient, so that Snow would be appeased until they could figure out how the spark she ignited could be used to their advantage. How Haymitch promised he would try not to let things get out of hand, and that he would protect her as best he could.

She hoped he wasn’t making promises he couldn’t keep.

Katniss heard the door to the penthouse click and creak open, and her heart pounded in her chest as she spun around to lay her eyes on the highest bidder, the one who had bought her body for the evening. She gasped silently as she saw a petite woman with a silver wig and silver tattoos of flowers leading a young man with striking blonde hair with blue streaks in it into the room. She had his eyes covered with her hands.

Oh no, Katniss thought to herself. He’s so young, he must be one of the ones who likes the violence.

The woman stopped a short distance away from where Katniss stood, smiling deviously at her.

“Ready?” she asked the man. She uncovered his eyes and cheered, “Happy birthday!”

The man opened his eyes, and Katniss was taken aback by the intensity of how _blue_  they were. They even matched the streaks in his hair. She thought to herself how the color of his eyes had to be fake, and that’s when Katniss recognized him.

When the Hunger Games weren’t airing, Capitol TV enjoyed broadcasting a wide variety of other, safer ‘reality competitions.’ They televised everything from clothing design to dancing and singing to knowledge-based contests. Katniss had seen this particular young man on one of those shows—she couldn’t quite remember where, but she thought he had been doing something with food.

She remembered those eyes though. She had thought they were fake then too, or that the color was enhanced by the television. She could see now that she was wrong, and those blue eyes were just as deep and rich as they had appeared. 

Those eyes that were now regarding her with… shock? Fear? Katniss tried very hard to stand her ground, when all she really wanted to do was run for the door, or at least cover herself up.

“Fulvia,” the man spoke, addressing the silver woman, “That’s—that’s Katniss Everdeen.”

“Of course it is!” she smiled. “We all thought she would make a wonderful birthday gift for you.”

He gawked at Katniss for a moment, and then turned to his friend.

“B—but—”

“Oh Peeta, it’s nothing. We all chipped in. Well, Plutarch paid the most, but that was just to throw his wealth around. You know Plutarch,” she tittered, backing away toward the door. “Now, you just have fun tonight!”

“Wait, Fulvia—”

“I’ll call you in the morning!”

“Fulvia! Just—”

The silver woman slammed the door shut, just as the man, Peeta, reached for the knob. He jiggled it around in an attempt to turn it, but couldn’t get the door open. He slammed against it once with his palm, and groaned in frustration.

Katniss didn’t quite know what to make of the situation. She peered back at the balcony and wondered if throwing herself off of it wasn’t too bad of a plan after all. It could at least get her out of here.

With a heavy sigh, Peeta turned around, regarding Katniss as she stood as still as a statue, a stoic look on her face. She only had on a thin, peach-colored nightgown that barely covered anything—it swayed in the breeze of the air-cooling unit, and she was sure he could see her nipples and the bare flesh of her pussy through the fabric.

She tried to remain resolute as he approached her.

“Um,” he began, “Hi, uh, Katniss. I, um…” he rubbed his forehead nervously, and then placed a comforting hand on her arm.

Katniss tried not flinch at his touch.

“I’m… really sorry,” he told her kindly, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth on her arm. 

She was so soft. 

“I don’t, uh…” he chuckled to himself in embarrassment and dropped his hand. “This whole thing is just… unexpected.”

Katniss again remembered Haymitch’s warning to be obedient, and she determinedly stepped forward so she was practically flush against Peeta’s body. His blue eyes grew wide as she wrapped her arms around him and gently pressed her lips to his. She wasn’t quite sure if she was doing this right, but his lips felt warm and soft, and they soon became pliable against her own. She felt his arms encircle her frame, and she molded into his body, feeling the effect she was having on him.

Her hands snaked in between their bodies, finding the button of his pants and undoing it. He gasped into her mouth as she kept going, slowly pulling his zipper down, and stilled a moment as she pushed all his clothing down his legs. Standing before her in only a dark t-shirt, he began to tremble slightly, and Katniss became worried that his trembling meant that the pressure would mount and he would soon unleash some sadistic act of sexual violence against her. 

She  _had_  to keep going. She  _had_  to remain in control.

She gently pushed him to the exceptionally large bed nearby, and he fell into it rather gracelessly. He pulled himself back to the ornate headboard as she crawled up onto the bed toward him, resolved to at least give him something for what his friends paid for, lest they tell Snow of her defiance. Katniss straddled his now throbbing cock, knowing what needed to come next but not quite sure of how to go about it, until she finally decided to just guide him in herself. She grabbed hold of his length firmly, eliciting a whimper from his lips, and led him inside of her slowly.

She paused halfway, feeling too dry and tight to possibly take him in any further, and her eyes flicked downward to glance at him.

He was watching her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable, and his breathing was ragged and heavy. He glanced in between their bodies, sensing the problem, and then, placing a firm hand at the small of her back, he effortlessly turned her over, putting himself on top.

Katniss gasped at the sudden change in position, and the fear that he now had the advantage.

He removed her hand from his hard length and smiled down at her, tracing a hand along her jawline and brushing a few strands of hair from her face.

“Is this… even real?” he asked in disbelief, more to himself, she thought, than to her.

She then felt his fingers gently exploring her nether regions, working themselves into her folds, and she gasped when he hit the little bundle of nerves at the top of them. He shook his head in amazement, and then did it again, and Katniss had to clasp her hand over her mouth to keep from making noise.

Two of his fingers worked their way inside her, and he began to pump them in and out as his thumb remained on her clit, brushing against it methodically. Katniss could feel his eyes still on her as a dull ache began to grow inside her. It was not something she didn’t recognize—it had manifested itself on occasion since puberty—but this was the first time she felt the ache in response to the touch of another person.

It made her feel scared, and vulnerable.

She soon felt wetness between her legs, and Peeta stalled his efforts to reposition himself so that his cock was back at her entrance. This time she proved to be slick and welcoming, but he still moved cautiously as he filled her. She froze, still frightened that now he would be rough with her, but once he was all the way in, he stilled as well.

“Is… this okay?” he asked, and she immediately nodded her head, wanting to appear compliant with his wishes.

He sighed softly and leaned his head down, capturing her lips with his. He was tender and sweet, taking her bottom lip in between his and sucking on it gently. She didn’t understand why, but that too seemed to make her ache where they were joined together. Her hips now lifted into his of their own accord, and she could feel him almost leave her body entirely before thrusting back inside her.

It wasn’t rough as she had expected, and a part of her almost wished it had been rougher. She needed this ache to be relieved, and knew instinctively that he could help her do that.

He pushed into her again, and this time, she bucked her hips up to meet him, and he hit the core of the ache in her belly. She whimpered as his lips moved to her neck and collarbone, sending shivers of excitement down her spine as he continued his rhythmic thrusting. Katniss soon felt so much pressure built up that she thought she would spontaneously combust, and then abruptly, her entire body tightened, and she could feel herself clamping down on his cock.

He groaned at the sensation and tensed up, grabbing onto her and plunging himself into her frantically. And then, gradually, he calmed, and she could feel him twitching inside her. He gasped for breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, looking down upon her in adoration.

“Thank you,” he breathed, and she was caught off guard by his gratitude. He leaned down and kissed her softly once more, and then pulled himself out of her and scooted off the bed.

Katniss watched his bare ass as he padded away from her to the bathroom, and soon felt his come seeping out from between her legs. She laid on the bed, immobile, her mind consumed with thoughts of the man in the bathroom, and how he had initiated her into this life of victor prostitution.

She wondered if the next buyer would be as generous and tender as he had been.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so happy so many of you were intrigued by my new AU! We’re backtracking with this chapter, and here you get to read a little more about Peeta’s background and how he ended up where he did.

Peeta Mellark was Katniss Everdeen’s biggest fan.

He watched slack-jawed as she volunteered to take her sister’s place during the District 12 Reaping, wondering how such a beautiful, brave, selfless creature could even exist in an outlying district. He could not tear his eyes away from the television as she stood stoic on the stage, shaking the hand of the male tribute, Thom, and Peeta found himself backing up his recording of the Reapings again and again just to hear her voice crack ever so slightly as she called out to her sister…

“Prim!  _Prim!_ No! I— _I volunteer!_  I volunteer as tribute.”

The words were stuck in his head, the way an awful pop song can get stuck there sometimes.

It was no use. Peeta was a goner. Smitten with a girl who had a 1 in 24 chance of living through the month. 

The next day at his family bakery, he could tell others were smitten too.

“If no one had told me she was from 12, I would’ve guessed she was from 2!”

“How sweet of her to protect her sister…”

“I don’t think there’s ever been a volunteer from 12!”

Phyl was nowhere to be found—a fact that didn’t surprise Peeta—and so he had to cover for his brother for the first few hours of the morning and work the front counter. It was something Peeta actually enjoyed—ever since becoming the youngest cake-decorating champion in  _Take The Cake_  history, it seemed he was now constantly busy making creations for the wealthiest in the Capitol. This left him with little time to work the front counter, and so he liked when Phyl showed up late; he liked interacting with the customers, and hearing the gossip.

Especially when the gossip had to do with Katniss Everdeen.

“Her stylist volunteered too!” he overheard a tall woman with orange spiky hair say to her friend, a shorter woman with her skin dyed purple. “It’s Cinna, the one who won  _Capitol Design_ , season 4.”

“Oh, I  _loooove_  Cinna!” the purple woman replied. “His designs are so simple, yet make  _such_  an impact. That girl is going to look so good, I’m jealous!” 

“I know! Can you imagine a whole wardrobe made by Cinna exclusively for you?” orange spiky hair asked. “And if she wins, I’m sure she’ll get a spokesperson deal with his fashion line.”

Purple woman scoffed as they left the bakery, “Ugh, some people have all the luck!”

Peeta watched them walk down the boulevard, and scrunched his face up in disapproval. ‘Some people have all the luck’? This girl was about to fight for her life! If she didn’t win, she’d die!

This thought nagged at Peeta the rest of the day. He didn’t know why it hadn’t bothered him before, that if a tribute didn’t win, it meant they were dead. But this girl just seemed to turn his whole world upside down. It suddenly mattered to him very much that she won—and lived—and by closing time, he had a plan.

“ _Please_ , Rylee, I know you and Fulvia didn’t end on good terms—” 

“I found her giving a hand job to Castor at Messalla’s coming out party,” Rylee said frankly as he helped load one of Peeta’s masterpieces into their delivery truck. “I’d say those were pretty shitty terms to end on—”

“But I hear she has that new job as Plutarch Havenbee’s assistant. A _Gamemaker’s_  assistant!”

“So?”

“So… maybe I want to do something with my newfound wealth and invest in a tribute this year.”

Rylee looked at his brother skeptically. “Peet, I thought you were going to use your winnings to expand the bakery. Hire some more workers.”

“Well…” Peeta stammered, trying to come up with an excuse. “I mean, the bakery’s doing really well these days anyway. You’d have to ask Mother, but I think there’s room in the budget for new hires without dipping in to my winnings.”

A long silence followed, both men waiting the other out.

“ _Pleeeeaaase_ , Rye?” Peeta eventually caved. “Give me Fulvia’s number.”

“Ugh, fine!” Rylee said, throwing up his hands. “Just stop whining like a bitch.”

Rylee pulled out his cell phone and gave Peeta the number to his ex, and then drove off with a colorful, towering cake for President Snow’s granddaughter.

Peeta nervously dialed Fulvia’s number, wondering how he could possibly start the conversation.  _Oh, hi, remember me, the brother of your ex-boyfriend who you had a horrible breakup with?_

Yep, that would go over  _real_  well.

The phone rang once, twice, and then picked up.

“Hello?”

“Um, Fulvia Cardew?”

“This is she!” Fulvia sang over the line.

Peeta cleared his throat, “Um, this is Peeta Mellark, um, you—” 

“Oh, Peeta! I cheered you on during the entire season of  _Take The Cake_! I know things didn’t end well between myself and your brother, but in my book, sheer talent trumps silly grudges, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Oh, um… of course. Thank you,” Peeta replied, relieved that he managed to recover. 

“So what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” she chirped.

Peeta ran a hand through his hair nervously, “Honestly, I just didn’t know how to get involved… I want to sponsor a tribute, and I know you’re Plutarch Havensbee’s new assistant, so I was hoping you could tell me who to contact.”

“Oh, Peeta! I can help with much more than that! Are you planning on attending the opening ceremonies tonight?”

“Um, I wasn’t planning on it, no…”

Fulvia gasped, “Oh, well then you  _must_  come! You can sit in the celebrities’ suite, which is set up on the left side of the Training Center building—you are a celebrity, you know, after your big win. Anyway, people have been there all day celebrating, so you can come whenever you like. And once you figure out which tribute you’d like to sponsor, we can introduce you to their mentor.”

“Oh, well, I um… I already have one in mind,” Peeta told her sheepishly.

“Wonderful! Who is it?”

“K—Katniss Everdeen.” He hid his blush in his hands, even though he knew she couldn’t see him through the phone.

A sigh came through the other end of the line, “From 12? Oh boy, that means you’ll have to deal with Haymitch Abernathy. Maybe we can introduce you to their district escort first. Well, it’ll all be settled by the time you arrive. Looking forward to seeing you, and dress sharp for the cameras!”

“Thank—” The phone clicked and went silent. “You.”

Quickly realizing he had little time to change and make it to the City Circle before the ceremonies started, Peeta dashed up the stairs of his building to his loft. Phyl had called it a ‘bachelor pad’ when Peeta first bought the place, but in truth, Peeta hadn’t had a single woman to the loft yet. He’d never even properly bedded a woman—the furthest he had ever gotten was with his fingers. And so Peeta himself secretly called it his ‘spinster pad,’ as if he were a poor old maid who simply made cakes and watched the world pass by, and not a 19-year old, extremely popular celebrichef.

Peeta quickly showered and shaved, styling his hair in the latest fashion for men. He was actually glad his friend, Lavinia, had convinced him to get the blue streaks in his hair—they really did bring out his eyes.

And as he stood in front of his closet, wondering what to wear, he suddenly remembered the orange and purple women from this morning. He frantically dug through his closet until he came across what he was looking for: a cerulean blue suit that he had worn to one of the many celebrations he attended after being crowned champion of  _Take The Cake_. The designer of the fine suit? Cinna, a then up-and-comer who won the latest season of  _Capitol Design_  later that year.

Peeta smiled to himself, pleased that he could connect himself to Katniss already, even in such a subtle way. He paired it with a black, v-neck t-shirt and black dress shoes, and made his way to the City Circle.

As he approached the celebrities’ suite, he noticed several other familiar faces from television, although their precise names escaped him. There was the latest winner of  _So You Think You Know Everything_ , the season 2 champion of  _Melody Master_ , and the prep team that won  _Style Stars_  last year.

Fulvia Cardew noticed Peeta immediately, and flailing her arms excitedly, she ushered him onto the carpet where all the celebrities posed for the cameras and talked to reporters.

“It’s a vintage Cinna,” Peeta told them proudly. “From before his big win on _Capitol Design_.”

“What do you think of his choice to design for District 12?” a reporter asked him.

Peeta shrugged, “It will be interesting to see his take on their trade. Coal miners are just… so overdone, you know? I think he’ll come up with something original.”

Another reporter stuck his microphone out past the others and shouted, “Peeta! Are you dating anyone right now?”

“Uh, no,” he chuckled. “Business at the bakery has just gotten so busy… But that doesn’t mean I’m not open to dating, if the right girl comes along.”

“Thanks, everyone, let’s keep the line moving!” Fulvia interrupted, shooing Peeta along. Once she was out of earshot of the reporters, she commented, “You have to give them just enough information to leave them wanting more. And you left them at the perfect time. Care for a drink?”

She handed Peeta some green concoction from a tray an Avox was carrying, and he took a sip. It tasted strong, with a bit of a bite at the end. It was good.

They made their way up the stairs, passing several celebrities on the way, until they finally arrived inside the suite. Everyone was dressed in their best, socializing with one another and sipping their colorful drinks, and Fulvia directed Peeta over to a petite woman in a pale pink dress, a matching colored wig on top of her head. 

“Effie, darling, I’d like to introduce you to Peeta Mellark,” Fulvia greeted her with air kisses and gestured to Peeta. 

Effie’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, Peeta, I just love your work! You are a true artist. And I’ve had the pleasure of tasting the cinnamon buns from your family’s bakery—they are  _sinful!_  We had some on the train this morning, in fact!”

“You did?” Peeta asked, surprised and hopeful that Katniss had enjoyed one too. “Well, if you like them that much, we can always have them sent to the Training Center. I can even deliver them myself! I mean…”

He cut himself off before he stuck his whole foot in his mouth.

“Young Peeta here would like to sign up to be a sponsor for your tribute—was it the girl or the boy you were interested in, darling?” Fulvia inquired, and Peeta swore he felt his cheeks burning.

“The girl. Katniss,” he replied softly.

Effie threw up her hands, “Oh, she has had sponsors lining up out the doors for her! For once, I don’t have to go begging my friends to contribute. Unfortunately, I am unable to sign on the dotted line, Peeta, dear, but we can book you an appointment with Haymitch for one of these next few days—”

The Anthem of Panem began to play, and everyone rushed to the windows facing the City Circle. Peeta waited anxiously, crushed up against Effie, Fulvia, and a large man he recognized as the winner from  _Pet Pageant_ , until finally he saw the last chariot make its debut.

His eyes widened in amazement. Katniss and her district partner were  _on fire_.

——————————————————

“So, you’re ready to throw away your money early, eh?” the disheveled man sitting in front of Peeta remarked as he downed his third glass of straight white liquor. Peeta wasn’t exactly sure if it was appropriate to drink like that in the middle of the afternoon, and so he looked to Effie for validation.

“Haymitch!” she snapped her fingers at him. “Focus!”

“Their training scores haven’t even come out yet,” he continued, leaning over the table to cut Effie out of the conversation. “She could be useless. She could die in the first five seconds, and then… you’d lose your precious deposit.”

Effie slammed a hand on the table. “Haymitch, that’s enough! Why are you scaring our sponsors away? Waiter, we need water over here!” 

“I’m trying to get him to play smart,” Haymitch replied, leaning back in his chair. “I know you. You won some hotshot competition, came into some money, and now you’re bettin’ on the dark horse to gain popularity with your new well-to-do crowd. Well we don’t need your pity, so why don’t you just  _shove off_ —” 

_“Haymitch!”_

“Sir, I’ve never cared about keeping a tribute alive as much as I care now,” Peeta admitted hastily. Haymitch’s expression softened, and Peeta continued, “I  _know_ she’ll be able to win, and I want to help her. I don’t care about possibly losing my deposit, and you can even call on me for additional money if you need to, but I won’t be discouraged by you, or anyone else.”

Haymitch studied Peeta closely, trying to decide if he was genuinely different the other snobby Capitol types he usually dealt with.

Finally, he sighed in defeat, “Fine. Where’s the damn pen to sign this contract with.”

In the days that followed, Peeta could barely leave his spinster pad, too consumed with watching Katniss Everdeen, the ‘Girl on Fire,’ on television. He’d only wished he gotten to see her interview with Caesar Flickerman in person, but unfortunately, that invitation was only for a select audience of elite, not for some B-list reality competition winner. However, he did enjoy being able to back up his recording as many times as he liked, watching her spin and spin and spin in her flame red dress.

He was ashamed to admit it, but he played it on repeat as he relieved himself that night, moaning her name into his bed sheets.

But as soon as the Games began, he was sick with worry.

Her district partner, Thom, was killed instantly at the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, but Katniss—clever, cunning Katniss—was able to escape into the woods, and with a pack of supplies, no less!

Peeta’s confidence slowly dissolved, though—first after she was badly burned in a forest fire, and then after she was chased up a tree by the Careers. Luckily the spoiled girl from 1 suggested they just wait for her to come down or let her starve to death, which gave her enough time to strategize.

And enough time for her to ally with that poor, sweet girl from 11.

Peeta could barely answer the phone as he watched Katniss sing to the dying girl. It was Haymitch on the other line, asking if Peeta would be willing to make a special order—a single loaf of bread made from dark, ration grain, shaped like a crescent with seeds folded into it. Peeta immediately recognized the description of the bread and had to stifle his quiet sobs into the phone.

For her kindness, Katniss would be receiving a gift from the people of District 11. Haymitch explained that payment for the bread would be coming from the District 11 mentor, Seeder, but Peeta refused to accept any money for his services.

He quickly got to work on the bread, finding the dark grain Haymitch requested in the back of his pantry, but using only fine Capitol ingredients for the less noticeable details. He wanted Katniss to know it was a gift from District 11 by its look and texture, but also wanted her sated and nourished from its flavor and healthy ingredients. And since time was of the essence, he used the accelerated oven.

Peeta pulled it out of the oven just as two men in dark suits showed up at his doorstep. They took the loaf from him without a word, and only minutes later, it was in Katniss’ hands. He watched her eat, and it filled his heart with joy to see her looking satisfied with the gift. It made him feel special just to have been a part of it.

In the end, a pack of muttations were released into the arena, and Katniss was only able to escape by once again scaling a tree. Right below her was the boy from 2, Cato, who she killed with an arrow to spare him the hours of agony of being ripped apart by the mutts. Peeta plainly saw the compassion in the act—both in her eyes, and in her hesitancy to shoot. She had a strong will, and a kind heart.

She almost looked disoriented when the voice of Claudius Templesmith announced that she was the victor.

Peeta felt like it was the first time in days that he could breathe easy. 

A celebration for all of Katniss’ sponsors was thrown in honor of her victory, and Peeta was easily the life of the party. He made a towering cake for the occasion that he lit on fire, and drank and danced and laughed with everyone there, even Fulvia and her boss, Plutarch Havensbee. Plutarch thought Peeta was just delightful, and promised to repay him for all his support. 

“Well, my birthday’s coming up,” Peeta joked, elbowing Plutarch in the ribs.

Plutarch smiled at that. He knew just what to get the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Fulvia Cardew is Plutarch’s assistant—points if you remembered that one—and for the purposes of this story, I made her in her early to mid-20’s (not sure how old she’s actually supposed to be).
> 
> Peeta’s blue suit is inspired from the one in the movie, when he and Katniss are being interviewed as co-victors.
> 
> It’s never really explained how sponsoring a tribute works, so what I imagined is that they would put down an initial deposit and then give above that deposit later on if they wanted to, or the mentor could request more money from them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back to later in the night after taking that short detour through Peeta's backstory. Thanks to Phantom Serenity (on FF.net) for beta'ing!!!

_I am a whore_ , Katniss thought to herself. She again glanced over at the man slumbering next to her, his face relaxed and a light snore emanating from his chest, and she couldn’t help the shame that flooded through her.

_I am a whore._

But it wasn’t like Katniss had a choice. Johanna told her what they had done to her family when she’d refused to whore herself out, and what they had threatened to do to Finnick’s family, and Katniss was determined not to put her own family in that kind of danger. 

At least this man, Peeta, had been gentle, and sweet, even. She was grateful that he hadn’t hurt her, and had wanted to give her pleasure. She was certain that her future buyers wouldn’t be as considerate.

She couldn’t stay with him though. What would the morning be like? Would she have to do it again? She didn’t think she had it in her to do that again so soon—the pretense would be too difficult to keep up.

It was still dark outside, save the neon lights of all the clubs and shops still open. Katniss couldn’t believe the nightlife in the Capitol—when did people ever sleep?

She hoped the person she called to rescue her would still be awake.

“Katniss? You all right?” the voice on the other end of her cell phone asked.

“Cinna, I’ve got to get out of here. Please, come get me.”

“I’ll send my car. Grab your things and wait outside.”

Katniss silently gathered her jacket and shoes and left Peeta asleep in the large room. She pulled up the collar of the jacket to hide her face, hoping no one would recognize her on the short trip down to the hotel lobby.

Luckily the car was already waiting for her when she made it out onto the street.

“Miss Everdeen,” Cinna’s driver greeted her, and she quickly made her way into the vehicle.

When she reached his luxurious apartment, she flung herself into Cinna’s arms and started to sob, finally letting the weight of what she had done come down on her. He stroked her hair and hushed her soothingly, and it calmed her somewhat. It was nice to feel comfortable enough to break down in front of someone she trusted—she hadn’t felt that way about anyone since her father died. Even with Gale, there were walls, but with Cinna, she felt accepted and nurtured.

“There there, it’s all right,” Cinna said softly. “Did—did he hurt you?”

Katniss shook her head, “No, he—he was okay. I just…” a fresh wave of shame washed over her and she clung to his shirt even tighter. “I just feel so  _used_ , so out of control… I wish I  _had_  died in the arena.”

“No, no, Katniss, don’t say that,” Cinna soothed her. “Think of your mother and sister. They still need you. And think of how well they’re living now with your victor spoils.”

“I’m paying for those spoils by being a Capitol  _whore_ ,” she spat, furious again with her predicament. “When does it end, Cinna? Finnick’s been doing this for  _ten years_. I can’t imagine ten years of this. Ten years of—my body, being violated—”

Cinna sat her down on an oversized couch and she immediately curled herself into a ball, bringing her knees up and resting her head on them. Cinna sat with her quietly, rubbing her back and letting her shed her tears of despair.

After she cried everything out, he spoke: “Katniss, you know what you started. The mentors are feeding off that spark you ignited, and the rebellion is slowly growing. They will find a way to get you out of this, and soon. But there is a price for freedom, and yours is this life. Just don’t lose hope, and you’ll soon be free.”

Katniss pondered this for a moment. Yes, she felt ashamed of the things she had done tonight, and would certainly be doing on more nights to come. But once she was free, she would be able to really appreciate the freedom, knowing she would never again be forced to use her body against her will that way.

She nodded at Cinna, who gave her a soft smile in return.

“You’re right,” she conceded.

“You’re so strong; you just have to hold on a little longer. Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he suggested, and she followed him to his guest room, where she slept rather peacefully the rest of the night.

The next morning, Cinna treated Katniss to a lavish brunch, with foods gathered from the finest eateries in the Capitol.

“This is all too much,” she protested, surveying the spread in front of her. There were beautiful arrangements of fruit, thick slabs of bacon, steaming hot chocolate, and a wide assortment of pastries. Katniss snatched a cheese bun off the tray and bit into it, and let out a soft sigh as the flavor hit her tongue. “Mmm, this is delicious,” she commented.

“It’s from Mellark’s, the hottest bakery in town right now,” Cinna informed her, grabbing a pastry for himself as well. “So, tell me, what was your suitor like last night?” he asked, trying to be nonchalant.

Katniss rolled her eyes. “Suitor?” she questioned. “Please. Let’s call it what it was. He was a  _buyer_. He  _bought_  me for the night. Well, actually, from what I gathered, his friends bought me for him.”

“Really?”

“I was some sort of… birthday present,” Katniss muttered, her eyes falling to her plate.

“And he didn’t hurt you?” Cinna asked again, needing to make sure she was all right. 

“No, he was—”

Katniss stopped herself as she remembered the previous night. How Peeta had seemed… timid, almost, and appreciative of her. How he had even cared about her pleasure, as well as his own.

“He was kind,” Katniss blushed, finishing her thought.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Cinna smirked at her, understanding the implication of her words.

Katniss gorged herself on the exotic food, knowing she would be on the train back to District 12 soon, as Cinna told her about her ad campaign for his fashion line. He said he would be using a lot of gold next season, and everything would tie in to the mockingjay theme. He hinted that it would be a subtle way to gain more supporters, supporters who could potentially turn into fellow rebels.

Katniss liked the sound of that; it meant she was one step closer to freedom.

There was a knock at the door just as Cinna and Katniss finished their meal, and when Cinna answered it, he found Effie on the other side.

“Good morning, dear!” she greeted Katniss as Cinna escorted her into the dining room. “It’s a good thing I can track the whereabouts of your phone, or else I would’ve been looking for you at the hotel! When did you arrive here?”

Katniss knew what she was asking: why didn’t you spend the night with the man who bought you?

“Early this morning,” Katniss replied casually, as if she didn’t know what she did was wrong. “Cinna’s car picked me up.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Effie remarked, her voice sickly-sweet. “But, for your safety, dear, I should let you know that in the future I’ll expect to pick you up from where you were dropped off the night before. Is that understood?”

Katniss looked down at her empty plate and picked at a crumb. “Yes.”

“And Cinna,” Effie turned to the stylist, “you shouldn’t worry yourself with her wellbeing. It is our responsibility to retrieve her, not yours. Have I made myself clear?”

Cinna nodded his head solemnly.

“Well, dear, we must be off. Back to District 12 for you!” Effie trilled. “But don’t worry; I’m sure you’ll be back here for another visit soon. Farewell, Cinna!”

Katniss collected her belongings and gave Cinna a long hug before shuffling out the door behind Effie. At least she would be home soon, if only for a little while.

——————————————————

Peeta woke bright and early, his internal clock on baker’s hours. He was disappointed, but not surprised, when he couldn’t find Katniss anywhere in the hotel penthouse. He assumed she was usually whisked away in the night after her services were completed, not wanting to be conspicuous in the daylight. But his understanding of her necessity for discretion didn’t take away the sadness he felt.

She was gone. Probably back on a train, headed for the faraway district from which she came.

As he showered and dressed for the day, he couldn’t help but fantasize about her, remembering their tryst from last night. He hadn’t expected her to be so forward—she was fierce in the arena, sure, but there was a certain… purity he had noticed about her as he had watched her in the Games.

The dominant girl he experienced last night—who shoved him onto the bed and grabbed his cock so forcefully—was not the girl he imagined. Perhaps that’s how the  _others_  liked it.

Although, once he took control, she appeared to soften. Peeta savored the image of her writhing underneath him as he slowly moved in and out of her. It made him hard just thinking of it. 

Now that he had gone all the way with a girl, he knew there was no way he was going back to just using fingers. He only hoped his lack of experience hadn’t been too apparent as he had awkwardly tried to figure out what to do, and he wondered how he compared to her other buyers.

Peeta sighed as he made his way out of the hotel to the quiet Capitol streets—everyone still asleep from partying too much just a few hours earlier—lamenting all the way to the bakery about how he’d probably never get to see Katniss again. It made him jealous and angry that others got to touch her and make her wet like he had, and he wondered to himself why she had to be cursed to that life.

There was just no chance he would ever get to be with her again, unless he bought her. And if all his friends had to pool their wealth just to afford her the one night, there would be no way he could afford her with his own money.

Slipping on an apron, Peeta worked out his frustration as he made the day’s goods, smashing the bread dough a little too hard on the worktable, and stirring the batter for the pastries extra vigorously.

Phyl, that deadbeat, was absent again this morning, and so Peeta also opened the store and tended to customers. It wasn’t something he usually minded, but in his melancholy mood, he would’ve rather stayed in the back all day, alone with his thoughts.

“Did you hear how much her virginity went for? Unbelievable!” a man in a yellow business suit said to his colleague in green stripes.

“I know! I heard a whole group bought her,” the green striped man replied. “I wonder if they took turns, or all went at her at once.”

The two men snickered as they clunked some change down on the counter and took their muffins.

“She’s still ridiculously overpriced,” the striped green man continued. “The going rate is ten thousand, just for the night!”

“I’d be lucky enough to afford half of her,” yellow man remarked. “And probably not even the good half.”

Peeta stood slack-jawed as the men left the bakery, laughing and hollering. He couldn’t believe it. Katniss had been a virgin too? Now he was sure the whole dominatrix thing was just an act—he knew her behavior last night hadn’t made sense, and now he understood why.

But aside from his revelation that they had been each other’s first—a thought that made him float on air—Peeta was intrigued by her apparently new, discounted price.

Ten thousand? He could afford ten thousand easily. That wasn’t even a fraction of his winnings.

He could buy her again

———————————————————————

Katniss arrived back in District 12 the next day, exhausted from the journey and disoriented from the speed of the train. Prim met her at the station in a brand new dress, and all Katniss could think about as her sister showed it off was how it was paid for with dirty money.

“How was Cinna?” Prim asked as they walked home. “Did you try on lots of pretty clothes?”

Katniss could barely look her sister in the eye as she thought of her trip to the Capitol. Prim could  _never_  know what she did there. She didn’t need to know about such awful things.

“Just a few, little duck,” Katniss managed to sound normal. “Mostly his design team explained the concept of his advertising campaign. Boring stuff.” 

“Sounds boring,” Prim agreed.

Katniss was thankful that Prim wasn’t so astute, and that her mother could be counted upon to be her usual, emotionally unavailable self. Katniss almost made it up the stairs to her room before her mother even noticed she was back.

“Katniss?” she called from her chair in the living room, “You made it back. How was the Capitol?”

“Um, it was fine, Mother,” Katniss answered as she climbed the staircase. “Just tiring. I’m going to rest.”

“All right,” she replied, turning back to watch the flames flicker and dance in the fireplace. Katniss rolled her eyes as she made her way to her room, trying to ignore the pang of longing she felt. She’d almost wished her mother had noticed her, had been able to sense that something had changed, had rushed to her side and comforted her. But she was too wrapped up in her own world for that, and Katniss knew it. She would just have to be the mother to herself, like she had always done.

But what kinds of motherly things could she do for herself in this situation? Katniss didn’t know how to deal with the swirl of emotions inside her now: shame, anger, fear… Everywhere she looked, she was plagued with reminders of how her life was out of her hands, and she dreaded the next phone call from the Capitol.

Now she understood why Haymitch had once ripped his phone out of the wall.

Suddenly, she thought of the one place that was still completely hers. Her sanctuary, her Eden, the forest. She quickly donned her father’s jacket and made her way out the back door, yelling something to her mother about going out and being home later. She practically ran through the back alleyways to the district fence, gingerly slipping under it and into the woods beyond. 

Katniss found her father’s bow and arrows and stealthily moved through the trees. It had been difficult to return to hunting at first, since the last things she’d slain with a bow and arrow were human beings. But Katniss was strong, and could fight off the painful flashbacks—they were  _not_  going to overtake her, or turn her into a shell of herself, like her mother. Soon enough, she found she was able to enjoy herself in the woods again, remembering that she kept her father’s spirit alive inside of her when she hunted.

She reflected on those days out in the forest with her father as he taught her how to shoot, and sing, and swim. And how after he’d died, she’d eventually remembered how to do all those things once again. If it hadn’t been for the happy accident of stumbling upon her father’s plant book while trying to find some of their belongings to sell, Katniss and Prim would’ve surely ended up in the community home. Instead, she studied the plant book, and ventured outside the fence to find something edible the next day. From there, she remembered where her father hid his bow and arrows, and shortly after, she met Gale. 

It was that strength that kept her family together, and it was that strength that got her through the Hunger Games. And so, Katniss resolved to herself as she set her sights on an unsuspecting squirrel, that she would be strong enough to face whatever sadistic deviants the Capitol rounded up for her to pleasure.

She tried to squash the small flicker of hope inside her that another gentle lover would buy her. That clearly was a fluke, and wouldn’t be happening again, she thought as her arrow flew straight into the squirrel’s eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a fillery chapter, but at least it hints at what’s to come next! I will say, as opposed to TMG, this story doesn’t really have a direction yet, so if it seems unfocused at times, that’s why.
> 
> I'm going to start sending out email alerts whenever this story updates, so if you want to add your email address to that list, you can PM me through FF.net (because I don't think there's a PM system in place here on AO3):
> 
> http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1418503/


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tremendous thanks to Phantom Serenity (FFn) for all her efforts as my beta!! She rocks so. hard. Enjoy!

“Hello?” Peeta answered his phone as he wiped his flour-covered hands on a dishtowel.

“Peeta, darling!” Fulvia sang over the other line. “How was the rest of your birthday? Did you…  _enjoy_  your gift?”

A blush came over Peeta’s cheeks as he was reminded of his tryst with Katniss a couple nights ago. “Yes, it was a… a very nice birthday.”

“So coy,” Fulvia scolded him playfully. “Well I’m glad to hear we picked out a good gift for you. You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” Peeta replied, his cheeks practically on fire in embarrassment over what he was about to ask next. “Um, Fulvia, I was wondering… How, uh…” the rest of his question came out in a rush, “how do I buy her for another night?”

He could practically hear Fulvia’s mouth turn into a mischievous grin through the phone. “Very nice birthday, indeed!” she cried, her tone scandalized. “Well, since I only contributed last time and didn’t make the actual purchase, I’ll have to ask Plutarch how it’s done. Care to meet at Headquarters over your lunch break?”

“Um, sure,” Peeta replied, glancing at the clock. It was quarter to eleven, which gave him enough time to finish decorating the cake he was working on and clean himself up. “I’ll meet you at noon.”

“Fabulous!” Fulvia cheered. “See you then, darling! Kisses!” And then the line went dead.

Peeta shook his head in an attempt to clear it; talking with Fulvia felt like he was in a whirlwind sometimes. He glanced over at his latest cake, a four-tiered masterpiece for Secretary Booth and his wife’s 40th wedding anniversary, and figured he would be able to finish adding the filigree before it would be time for him to go.

……………………….

“Haymitch!” Katniss shouted at the top of her lungs as she shook the old man back and forth, but it was no use. By the looks of things, her mentor had gone on a real bender this time, and had been passed out for at least a day. Katniss rolled her eyes as she filled a small bucket with water, wondering how she hadn’t realized that she’d have to be Haymitch’s keeper now as well. As if it wasn’t enough having to endure everything else.

Haymitch was startled awake as the ice cold water hit him. He staggered out of his seat and drew his knife—something he always carried with him, Katniss had figured out when she was training for the Games—and he waved it around like a mad man while shouting obscenities and unintelligible words.

“What the—sonofa—habuaba—Kat! Jeez! Whaddya do that for?”

“Well I had to make sure you were still alive,” Katniss told him matter-of-factly, setting the bucket on the table. “What the hell happened here?”

Haymitch glanced around at the mess around him, almost losing his balance, and shrugged, “Jus… doin what I do best, sweetheart.” He swayed a little as the color drained from his face, and he managed to grab the bucket before spilling his guts into it.

Katniss cringed at the sight.

“This has gotten worse,” she remarked as she led him to the couch in his living room, stepping over empty bottles and strewn about papers and other things. “It looks like you’ve been out for days. What’s the last thing you even remember?”

Haymitch stared at the wall opposite him as he thought hard about her question. “I think… I talked to Effie about the itinerary of your visit to the Capitol… and then…” He let the answer hang, allowing Katniss to fill in the blanks.

She felt a pang of something—possibly shame, possibly surprise—deep down inside her as she let the meaning of Haymitch’s words sink in. She didn’t  _need_  to ask him, but she did anyway:

“How… how detailed was the itinerary?”

Haymitch arched his eyebrow at her, and the pang grew stronger as she realized that he knew. He knew her trip wasn’t just to visit Cinna to work on her spokesperson campaign, but to also fulfill her obligation to a buyer. He knew that her body was being violated, and he drank himself into oblivion over it. Katniss felt guilty that she had contributed to his drinking, and felt the need to ease his mind.

“I didn’t—it wasn’t that bad—”

“I don’t need the gory details, sweetheart—” Haymitch protested, holding his hands up as a gesture to quiet her.

“I know, I just…” Katniss struggled to find the words that would comfort Haymitch, and she sighed, realizing she had never really been that great with words. Careful not to say anything to explicit in case the house was bugged, she reminded him, “Just, tell me you’re working on what you need to be working on to help me.”

Haymitch nodded. “I am, sweetheart. I mean, I will. It’s just been a while since I’ve needed to take care of anyone, and I felt like I let you down. I promised you I would protect you, and I couldn’t.” 

“It’s okay,” she replied, putting an arm over his shoulder. “There’s only so much you can do from here. All I ask from you is that you keep… working on what you said you would, and I’ll be able to take care of myself next time I go there.”

“Next time?” he asked, his eyes growing wide.

“I um… I have a photo shoot with Cinna in three weeks, and Effie mentioned I would probably have another buyer lined up by then…”

Haymitch balled his fists up tightly as Katniss’ words sunk in. He knew then that he couldn’t just wallow in alcohol anymore, and would have to start making contact with the other victors in the other districts in order to keep this rebellion moving along. He was going to have to start really working, not for his own sake, but for the sake of this young girl depending on him.

He was not going to let her body be sold for much longer. Not if he could help it.

………………………..

“Peeta, darling!” Fulvia greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks in the lobby of the Hunger Games headquarters. “You are in luck, I worked my magic and got Effie to agree to meet with you right away!” She ushered Peeta to the elevators as she spoke a mile a minute: “Apparently when we all bought her for you the first night, it was an auction-style bidding war due to the fact that she was…” she said the next part quietly, “a virgin. But now, it’s simply a fixed price at ten thousand per night. Effie will go over the details with you.”

Fulvia escorted Peeta to the fifteenth floor and seated him in a large conference room. On the wall opposite him was a spectacular view of the city, but that couldn’t distract him from noticing the grotesque mural on the wall next to it—the mural was of the very famous battle of the 65th Hunger Games, and in the center of it was Finnick Odair, in all his glory, wielding his trident into the abdomen of another tribute.

Peeta audibly gulped at the sight. He was certain that if he’d ever been in the Hunger Games, he surely wouldn’t have survived. 

“There he is, our number one sponsor!” Effie sauntered into the room and greeted Peeta with air kisses, Fulvia right behind her. “I understand you ended up being the lucky recipient of our dear young victor, and apparently she was to your liking if you’re back looking for more!” She giggled at this, and Peeta felt shame wash over him. How he wished he didn’t have to buy her in order to be with her.

“I told him the price, but I didn’t explain what it entails,” Fulvia informed Effie as she sorted through the stack of papers she had brought into the room with her.

Effie shuffled her papers around and pulled out a very official looking document. She cleared her throat and informed him, “Yes, well, the price of ten thousand covers the hotel room with all its amenities for one night, including room service, laundry service, and concierge service—basically anything you may need to make your experience a…  _fulfilling_  one. Then of course there is the victor, prepped and ensured to be protected against pregnancy and free of infections…” Effie paused for a moment and looked up at him, a stern expression on her face. “Um, it came to my attention that she did not spend the entire night with you last time, which was a flagrant breach of contract and has been guaranteed not to happen again.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” Peeta stammered. “I just thought… that was the protocol—”

“No, no!” Effie corrected him. “You need to get what you pay for, my dear boy, and this time she will adhere to her contract.”

“Oh—okay…”

Effie flipped through the document as she spoke, “In fact, your time with her is not up until the start of the next business day at 9am. She will have other responsibilities while visiting the Capitol, you know.”

Peeta nodded, still very embarrassed by the whole situation. “Of course.”

Shuffling through her papers again, Effie fished out Katniss’ schedule and told him, “Now, dear, I have you down for her first night in the Capitol, the 17th. Will you be paying through direct transfer, or will you be paying with credit?”

Curiosity now trumping embarrassment, Peeta asked, “I actually was wondering… how many nights will she be in town?”

Effie cocked her head to the side, surprised by his inquiry. She studied the schedule closely and told him, “It looks like she will be spending four days and three nights here in the Capitol—”

“And is she… booked for any of those nights already?”

“Well, no…” Effie replied hesitantly, unsure if she particularly liked the direction the conversation was going. “You’re the first firm offer we’ve negotiated with.”

“Well then,” Peeta sighed, happily pulling out his wallet, “I’d like to be the last. I’ll take all three nights, please.”

Effie appeared at a loss for words. She faltered, scrambling to find the contract to see if this was even allowed. “Well, um, I don’t know if that’s… I believe we need to make her available to a wide variety of customers—”

“Why?” Peeta asked sincerely. “I have the money, I’m willing to pay you now through direct transfer, unless there’s a limit to how many nights I can buy her for…”

“Um…” Effie flipped through the contract once, twice, and then gave her shoulders a shrug. “No, I don’t see anything in here about a limit—”

“Then I’d like to buy her for all three nights, please.”

Effie and Fulvia exchanged a glance, and finally Effie sighed and gave in. “Very well, dear. I’ll specify in the contract that she will be with you for the duration of her stay.”

Peeta allowed a small smile to form on his lips. It would be money well spent.

………………………

Katniss once again found herself standing in the middle of the same luxurious hotel penthouse, awaiting the man or woman who had bought her body for, not just the night, but for the entirety of her stay in the Capitol. The day had been a blur as soon as Effie picked her up from the train station, informing her she needed to be prepped immediately in order to make it to the hotel on time, and that she would be staying there for the entire time she was in town.

Cinna had looked more melancholy than usual, knowing he was once again styling her to be treated like some plaything, and he told her in a real emergency that she could call him and he would break Effie’s rules for her. It was a small comfort, given the situation.

She felt nauseated with worry over what sick and twisted things the buyer would demand from her, especially since he or she had several nights for their sexual activities to escalate. She wished she could just cover herself with something, but Effie had explicitly told her to remain in wardrobe, which tonight consisted of a flame red bra and panties, embroidered in orange and gold to make them gleam in the low lighting of the room.

When she saw herself in the mirror, she didn’t recognize the sexy dolled up girl with wavy locks and plump lips and her boobs pushed up to her neck that was staring back at her. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

Perhaps she would be able to pull through if she just dissociated herself from the whole experience, including this whore persona the Capitol had created. Katniss knew this wasn’t  _really_  her, and maybe she would be able to get through it unharmed if she just denied that she had anything to do with the activities in this hotel room for the next few days, and that some other woman had possessed her body.

Her new plan, however, wasn’t able to suppress the quickening of her heartbeat as she heard the door unlock and creak open. Katniss held her breath as she turned around to greet her buyer, ready to pretend she was a willing participant in all of this—

But her breath caught in her throat as she met the beautiful blue eyes of Peeta, the man who’d had her only a few weeks prior. Katniss became instantly alarmed, and knew that he had bought her for her entire stay in order to punish her for not staying the whole night last time.

She was sure he would not go as easy on her as he did previously.

She glanced toward the balcony and turned to run for it, but his hand grabbed her arm before she could move.

“No!” she screamed, struggling to break free of his grasp. “Let go of me!”

“Katniss! Hey! Katniss, stop!” Peeta shouted over her, trying to get her attention. He eventually was able to grab her shoulders and still her, and she could see his concern for her evident in his eyes. His eyes raked up and down her practically naked form, and then he suggested something that took Katniss entirely by surprise:

“Let’s get you a robe or something, so you can cover up a bit.”

That was Katniss’ first inkling that she could maybe still trust this man with her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanna throw this out here now, this fic will have much less smut in it than TMG did (which is pretty easy to do, because TMG had smut in it, like, every other chapter). But that doesn’t mean there won’t be a lot of tension, which is almost as fun as the actual sex itself. Maaayybe even more so. So for the pervs keeping count of how many chapters it’s been since the good stuff in chapter 1 (and I count myself in that group), don’t worry, because good things come to those who wait. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the next, highly-anticipated chapter of The Highest Bidder!! Thanks so much to everyone who has commented and left kudos—it’s definitely great motivation and keeps me writing!!
> 
> Of course, none of this would be possible without my spectacular beta, Phantom Serenity. You ROCK!! Enjoy!!

Katniss gingerly lifted the teacup to her lips and took a small sip. Her nerves were still frayed, because despite Peeta making no advances toward her whatsoever, she still couldn’t believe she’d get out of this without having to do  _something_  for him. After he caught her, she begged him not to tell Snow that she’d tried to run and insisted that she pleasure him, but he defied her advances. Instead, he grabbed her arms firmly and sat her in a nearby chair, instructed her to stay, and then fetched a robe from the bathroom. Once she was clothed, he decided they needed some tea and called for room service.

Katniss pursed her lips at the bitter taste of the liquid, and reached for the sugar bowl, dropping one, two, three spoonfuls into the cup.

“Do you want sugar?” she asked in a meek voice she didn’t recognize. She peered up to find him staring at her, which made her uncomfortable. He shook his head, and she put the sugar bowl back on the tray.

“Katniss—” he started, and she flinched.

He was lulling her into a false sense of security, he had to be.

He sighed, and began again, “Katniss, I’m sorry for, for when we last saw each other. I didn’t know you had been a—”

“Please, don’t,” she implored, shaking her head. She could feel the heat on her cheeks as she remembered that night, how she had done things she didn’t even realize she was capable of. “Let’s just not talk about it.”

“But, we have to, in order to…” he sighed again, “Obviously you think you owe something to me tonight as well—”

“I do—”

“You don’t. Not a thing. Your company is enough.”

“But—” she started to protest.

“Katniss,” he said, reaching over his seat and placing a hand on hers, “I paid to spend  _time_  with you. I looked over the contract myself, and although there are a _lot_  of implications of what we could spend our time doing, I don’t want to do that.”

Not unless she wants to, he thought in spite of himself.

Katniss stared at his large hand covering hers as she digested his words, knowing they didn’t sound right. No boy his age would say something like that—she’d hung around Gale and his gang of friends long enough to know that.

“Look, I know nothing about this is normal,” Peeta continued, pulling his hand away. “But I just want to get to know you, like we could if…” He stopped, squashing his feelings of regret and longing down deep inside himself, and collected his thoughts. “If the circumstances weren’t like this, and we just… met, I would offer to take you to dinner, ask you about your family, your interests… And what we did last time…” Peeta cleared his throat, “That wouldn’t come till much later.”

Katniss was silent for a long moment, and then asked, “Take me to dinner?”

“Like, to a restaurant.”

She shrugged.

“People go there to pay for food prepared by a chef… Are there no restaurants in District 12?”

They stared at each other awkwardly, him perplexed, her bewildered.

Peeta sighed for the umpteenth time that night, annoyed that his usual way with words was failing him. “Restaurants aside, I… I want to get to know you. And, if you want to get to know me, then great, but if not, then… then I guess I’ll just allow you to stay here alone, and have your freedom for the next few nights. At least no one else will be manhandling you,” he finished with a sad smile.

Katniss’ eyes fell to the teacup on her lap. She shook her head in disbelief as she considered the way he always seemed to surprise her—his actions and words were nothing like what she expected from a buyer, or even a Capitol citizen. The ones she’d met had all been insufferable—arrogant, self-absorbed, talking about her like she wasn’t there—but this man, with his innocent blue eyes and gentle touch, seemed to be different.

He reminded her of Cinna, with how down to earth he was, and she briefly wondered if there were more decent Capitol people like them.

Effie had said she was required to do whatever the buyer wanted, but she hadn’t thought that meant sitting in a bathrobe drinking tea,  _not_  touching each other. But he wanted to get to know her, and wanted to know if she wanted the same. It did seem harmless, and if she was honest with herself, Katniss was curious about this mysteriously kind Capitol man who could afford her for three nights in a row.

“What do you want to know?” she finally asked, her tone slow and cautious.

Peeta’s smile grew wider as he understood the meaning of her words. She was allowing him to stay, allowing him in to her world. 

“I um… I feel like I know some about you already,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. “You’re from District 12, you’re sixteen, you have a little sister… what’s your sister’s name?”

“Prim. Primrose.”

“How old is she?”

“Twelve. This was her first reaping.”

Peeta furrowed his brow as he thought of such a young girl like that entering into the Games.

Then he realized, one had.

He tried not to think of Katniss singing to Rue as he told her, “She’s a lucky girl to have you for a sister.”

“I just take care of her the best I can,” Katniss argued. “She’s so good and kind, and I swear she can love even the ugliest of creatures. I don’t want that goodness to be destroyed.”

“You protect her.”

“You would too, if she was your little sister.” 

Peeta laughed, “I’m sure I would, but I don’t know anything about sisters. I have two older brothers, and they did nothing to protect me. When we were kids, we were always getting into fights and ratting each other out to our mother… Well, I suppose you know about that from your cousin.”

“My cousin?” Katniss questioned.

“Um, they interviewed him when you were in the arena. He seemed like a big brother type.”

“Oh. Gale,” Katniss breathed, it dawning on her what Peeta meant. “I suppose he’s kind of like a brother, but we’re not actually related. We just—”

She stopped herself, wondering if this was really what Peeta’s purpose was. Perhaps he was a mole sent by Snow to learn all of the unlawful things she had ever done—she was sure she could be whipped for hunting outside the district, and given the number of times she’d committed the offense, she’d probably be put to death for it.

It didn’t seem likely, but she couldn’t take any chances.

“We’re just good friends,” she finished sheepishly.

Peeta studied the guilty look on her face, and it made him wonder if she was telling him the truth. Maybe this Gale guy was actually her boyfriend, but the Capitol didn’t want to label him as such so that they could exploit her. He’d heard rumors of things like that with other victors, and thought it was plausible.

The thought of her already having a boyfriend twisted his insides into knots.

But before he could inquire more about Gale, Katniss asked him, “Do you do something with food? I mean, for a living?” Her mind had drifted to her and Gale supplying their families with food, which made her remember where she’d seen Peeta in the first place.

“Oh. Um, yeah. I’m a baker. My family owns a bakery.”

Katniss nodded, “And you’ve been on TV before, right?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I won  _Take The Cake_  like six months ago.”

“That’s what it was!” Katniss cried, a happy memory of her little sister flooding her mind. “ _Take The Cake!_  Oh my god, Prim made me sit through a whole marathon of that one Saturday afternoon. I thought my teeth were going to decay just watching it.”

Peeta chuckled, pleasantly surprised that she knew him in the same way he knew her. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I was sick to my stomach watching you in the arena,” he admitted, and Katniss’ smile disappeared. He had meant for the comment to help connect them to one another, to help them understand their shared experiences, but instead it only seemed to shut her down.

Her reality competition was just too different from his own.

She didn’t quite know how to handle his confession. Every day was a struggle to just forget everything about what had happened in the arena, and so she certainly had no intentions of talking about it.

“I, um… I don’t want to talk about that,” she told him plainly.

“Oh. Of course. Okay.”

Her mind then flicked to the terrors that plagued her in the dark of night, and she knew that if she was going to be forced to spend the night with him, he should be aware of what to expect from her.

“I just think you should know,” Katniss continued, “I have… nightmares… about it. So, if you’re staying the night here, then, just… you’ve been warned.” 

“What, um… what should I do if you’re having one?” he asked tentatively.

Katniss’ brow creased in confusion. He wanted to be able to do something about it? To stop it from happening? That certainly wasn’t an option. She couldn’t control her nightmares.

“Look, if it’s going to bother you that much, then maybe you shouldn’t stay here,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest tightly. The underwire of her bra dug into her skin. 

“Oh. No, I—” Peeta stammered. He could feel his cheeks heat up as he admitted to her, “I just, I’d hate to see you suffering like that. I was wondering if I should wake you up, or something…”

She considered the nature of her dreams, and how she always woke up thrashing. “I may very well hit you in my sleep, so… come near me at your own risk,” she told him, and he smiled at this.

Did he think she was joking?

“Thanks for the warning,” he chuckled.

He loved how she spoke her mind. He hadn’t met any other women like her. The women he knew all seemed to speak in tongue, waiting for him to figure out their coded language and understand the meaning behind their words. But this girl said exactly what she meant, and reacted honestly to him. It was refreshing. It invigorated him. It made him more curious about her.

He noticed Katniss trying to discreetly shift in her seat, and he asked her, “Are you okay?”

She froze, like a deer hearing a branch crack in the woods. She slowly tried to shift back to the way she was sitting, but her underwire began to one again puncture her skin.

“Um. Yeah, I’m fine,” she evaded, trying to hide a grimace as she moved her shoulders slowly around, trying to find a comfortable position to sit in. But the stupid, whore’s costume only prodded at her side further. She glanced up at Peeta, who was watching her with an arched eyebrow, and she felt her face heat up in embarrassment. “No, I’m not fine,” she sighed. “This… stupid bra is…” 

“Would you like to change?” he offered as he watched her fidget.

“I don’t have anything to change into,” she replied exasperatedly.

“Oh. Um…” Peeta thought for a moment, and then quickly stood and took off the shirt from his back. He handed the dark blue t-shirt to her with a timid smile. “Here, you can use this.”

Katniss’ eyes flicked from the shirt in Peeta’s outstretched hand, and the rippling torso the shirt just came off of, and she felt a tingling low in her abdomen. She recognized it as the same feeling she’d had the last time they’d been together in this hotel suite, and became angry with her body for betraying her.

She  _wasn’t_  supposed to be having those kinds of feelings.

She snatched the shirt and stood abruptly, barely able to look Peeta in the eye as she mumbled, “Thank you,” and ran to the bathroom.

He continued to stand there, staring at nothing in particular, as he heard water running from the bathroom. He shook his head as he wondered if he’d ever be able to solve the mystery of this elusive woman, ever be able to understand what she was thinking, and ever get her to trust him.

He sighed as he thought;  _at least she accepted my shirt when I offered it._  That was a start.

“There is no way in hell,” Katniss whispered softly to herself under the whir of the bathroom fan and the steady splash of the water running in the sink. She stared at the made-up face in the mirror and felt disgusted with this entire situation. She couldn’t deny her body’s urges—perhaps it was because she remembered his soft touch from only a few weeks prior, but seeing Peeta shirtless brought hungry, frustrated emotions bubbling to the surface, and made her feel out of control once again.

“You don’t know what that man wants from you, no matter what he claims,” she told herself. “You can’t be distracted by…” She didn’t know what to call this feeling, but she knew it was a distraction, and a big one.

She felt the underwire of her bra dig into her side once more, and with an angry groan, she threw the robe and bra on the floor and splashed the cool water from the sink onto her face. She then grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed all her makeup off, leaving her skin raw and red. She stared at herself in the mirror once again, and finally she recognized herself—she smiled at the small imperfections that were now visible on her face, and ran her fingers over the invisible scars on her body that had been covered up by the Capitol after she was declared victor.

Katniss was then struck by the reality that she would eventually have to leave the bathroom, and glanced over at the t-shirt sitting next to the sink. She gingerly plucked it off the countertop and held it out to examine it. She didn’t  _want_  to need it, but knew she had no better alternative. She slipped it over her head and found that it fit just like her nightgown at home did—it was a bit short, and the collar was so big that it exposed one of her shoulders, but it worked well for its purpose.

And, Katniss let herself admit, it smelled nice. Like sugar and bonfire.

She glanced back at her reflection for the final time and found a smile on her lips. It quickly disappeared as she realized she was enjoying herself entirely too much, and needed to remain in control and keep her emotions in check.

“No way in hell,” she told herself with a nod as she shut off the water and stepped out of the bathroom.

She glanced around and winced as she saw Peeta over by the couch, now only clad in a pair of boxers, making up a bed for himself.

Hearing the bathroom fan shut off, he turned and smiled at Katniss from across the room, reveling in how good she looked in his shirt. “Hey,” he greeted her, “I found these extra pillows and blankets in the closet. I… I’d like to stay, if that’s all right.”

Katniss gave a curt nod. “It’s your money,” she told him stiffly before climbing into the large bed. She settled in as Peeta walked around the room, turning off each of the lights. He stopped before he could reach the one on her nightstand, and she realized why he was hesitating and quickly reached over and turned it off herself. 

“Oh, um… Thanks,” he said lamely.

“Yeah,” she replied.

He made his way around the rest of the room, shutting off the rest of the lights, and then tucked himself in under the covers before reaching for the lamp on the side table. He glanced over at Katniss and found her watching him, and he couldn’t stop the visceral reaction his body had as he stared at her.

Clearing his throat, he mumbled, “Goodnight, Katniss.” Then he shut off the light and the room was plunged into darkness. Peeta tried not to sigh too loudly with relief; now knowing she wouldn’t be able to see the blush on his cheeks and the erection he was sporting. He hated that he couldn’t help himself, but the situation was just so intimate, and so reminiscent of the time they’d spent in this room a few weeks earlier, even if he wasn’t sleeping in the bed with her this time.

It didn’t matter if she didn’t want him. He still wanted her.  _Desperately._

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, after being able to calm himself down and convince himself that she may never reciprocate his feelings no matter how many times he bought her, he heard her whisper two words that made him feel like he was once again floating:

“Goodnight, Peeta.”

No, he couldn’t lose hope yet. Maybe tomorrow night they would make more progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the moment you become aware of your underwire and you know you’ve been wearing a bra for too long.
> 
> Can you just feel the tension in the air with this chapter??? I apparently like to pit Katniss against her sexual urges. And could she possibly be starting to like him too? Hmm…
> 
> Let me know what you thought!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here’s the next chapter of The Highest Bidder. It’s much longer than normal—see what happens when you motivate me to write with your awesome comments?—but I knew what I wanted in this chapter and it just took an extra thousand words to fit it all in. I’m sure I won’t have any complaints about that though. ;)
> 
> Of course, the biggest thanks goes to Phantom Serenity for beta’ing this chapter—your feedback is always invaluable, bb!! Enjoy!

She was back in the arena. Running, out of breath, struggling to keep going.

“Katniss! Run!”

It was Rue’s voice.

Poor, lovely, little Rue. It hurt to think of Rue.

The mutts were closing in on her—she could feel them at her heels, snarling and nipping at her.

“Climb, Katniss!” Rue shouted to her, so she jumped onto a low branch and made her ascent, but the mutts followed her. One grabbed her leg and she screamed out in pain as it gnawed on her.

She could feel herself losing her grasp, slipping.

Another latched on to the tail of her jacket and pulled her down. And she was screaming, franticly trying to climb the tree when something else grabbed her wrists—

“Katniss! Wake up!”

She opened her eyes wide and found herself in the dark hotel suite. It was the middle of the night, and it was Peeta holding her wrists, in an attempt to subdue her thrashing. She could feel her heart beating out of control, and he let her wrists go so she could rub her eyes and wipe the sheen of sweat from her forehead.

“You weren’t kidding about your nightmares,” he attempted with a smile. In truth, he hadn’t ever heard something so frightening, her screams still echoing in his mind. He hated that they plagued her, and once again found himself wishing the circumstances were different and that she hadn’t had to suffer so much terror. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Katniss slowly nodded, finally feeling calm. She noticed she had placed her hand back in his—it felt warm, and comforting. She could feel his pulse. 

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

She looked up at him incredulously; her lips in a thin line, and he quickly backtracked.

“Okay, that’s a no. Message received.”

He shifted to move off the bed, which sent Katniss into a panic. What if she fell back asleep into her nightmare? This happened a lot right after coming home from the Games, and whenever it happened, she would force herself to stay awake until the morning, turning on all the lights in her room and busying herself with mundane tasks. But she couldn’t very well do that with Peeta here; he’d think she was insane.

She grabbed his hand before she even realized what she was doing. If he made her feel calm, then maybe he could keep the nightmares away too. She looked up at him with wide eyes, unsure of herself and the entire situation, but it was the best she could think of in her half-asleep state.

“Stay?” Peeta questioned as he gazed down upon her. She looked so small, like a frightened child, and his heart melted as her grip on his hand tightened.

“Please?” she asked in a voice so soft, Peeta wasn’t sure if he imagined it. He sat back down on the bed as she scooted to the other side, their hands all the while remaining entwined. He awkwardly laid himself down above the covers, sensing she probably wasn’t ready to cross that boundary, and squeezed her hand comfortingly.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to her as her eyes fluttered closed, “you’re safe here.”

Katniss slept peacefully the rest of the night.

But when she awoke the next morning, she became paralyzed by an entirely different kind of fear.

Sometime during the night, Peeta must’ve gotten cold and slipped under the covers, and now was pressed up against her, his face buried in her hair and a very prominent erection wedged against her backside. His arm draped over her midsection, and she felt trapped.

She honestly felt a few other things too, but decided the main thing she felt was trapped.

She tried to keep her breathing under control as she thought of how to possibly extract herself from this position without waking him up, but she found he had quite a hold on her.

It was no use. She was going to have to wake him up.

She turned her head toward him and whispered, “Um, Peeta—”

He slowly opened his eyes, and a lazy smile spread across his face before he realized exactly what kind of situation he was waking up to. Once he did, he practically jumped off the bed.

“Katniss! Oh, god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. I’m okay, you just had me a little tightly—”

“But I shouldn’t have—shit—”

“No, I should’ve known—”

Realizing their talking over each other was getting them nowhere, they both stopped at once. Katniss sighed and tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, and Peeta started chuckling.

“Let’s just, forget the whole thing,” he suggested as he walked over to the couch and reached for his pants. “Are you hungry? I’ll call room service for some breakfast.”

“Sure,” she sighed, her tone guarded but pleasant enough.

Peeta reached for the phone on the nightstand and proceeded to order a huge breakfast, more than the two of them could possibly eat.

Once it was delivered, Katniss zeroed in right on the pastries, but found herself disappointed when it tasted dry and flavorless.

“Those aren’t good?” Peeta asked as he loaded up his plate with food.

“No,” she replied, setting the pastry down and pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “Last time I was in the Capitol, I had really good pastries from some trendy bakery. There were these cheese buns that were  _amazing_ —”

Peeta laughed, “That was probably from our bakery. I hate to brag, but we make a mean cheese bun.”

“But, I thought you only did cakes…” she trailed off, confused.

“The cakes are the most lucrative part of the business, that’s for sure. But we started out with breads and pastries,” he explained, snatching a pastry for himself and biting into it. “Ugh,” he gagged, setting it back down, “you’re right, those are not good. Not enough butter, or cinnamon.” Katniss smiled in response. 

They ate in companionable silence for a while, but soon Peeta became curious about her business in the Capitol.

“So, what are you doing with your day?” he asked as they finished their meal. 

“Uh, working with Cinna. They’re taking pictures of me in his clothing, I guess.”

“Oh, a photo shoot,” he hummed, “I had to do some of those after  _Take The Cake_. They’re only a little boring. You just stand there and follow their directions.”

Katniss cast her eyes downward. “Sounds like fun,” she said sarcastically.

He laughed at her quip and replied, “Oh, it is. Believe me. Posing for hours on end as people fuss over you… It’s tiring, but you get some nice photos afterward.” He then glanced around and cleared his throat, “Um, Katniss? I’m going to need my t-shirt back.”

Looking down at what she was wearing, she quickly realized what he’d meant. She let out a small gasp and then dashed to the bathroom, not wanting him to see the blush on her cheeks at his request. She almost felt disappointment at having to give the t-shirt back, but the shrugged off that feeling as a stupid one. It was a shirt, nothing more.

In a few short moments, she was back with a robe on and his shirt in her hands. 

“Thanks,” he muttered as she silently handed it to him. He was never quite sure how to approach her; every time he thought she was opening up to him, he would say or do something to put her guard back up. It was frustrating beyond words, but he had to be patient. He quickly threw the shirt on and told her as he made his way to the door, “Tonight I’ll bring a change of clothes, or at least bring something you can keep to sleep in.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“No, it’s fine. I want you to be comfy,” he smiled at her as he slipped his shoes on, hoping his thoughtful gestures would help her to trust him. “I’ll, um, see you tonight, I guess.” 

“Okay,” she replied, still unsure of what was happening to her. She could feel her resolve cracking with his every smile, every kind act. “Bye,” she said as he approached the door. 

“Bye,” he smiled wider and slipped out. And suddenly, Katniss felt very alone.

……………………………………

“So where the heck have you been hiding lately?” a woman with dark red hair asked Peeta as they ate lunch outside at a café. “I haven’t seen you at the studio in weeks!”

“Vin, you know things have been crazy at the bakery—”

“So crazy you can’t fit some studio time into your schedule? That’s not like you.”

Lavinia was one of Peeta’s oldest friends. They’d known each other since starting school together, and had even dated for a week in secondary school, but they quickly realized they were better off as friends. They shared a passion for art, and after graduation, she opened an art studio in the heart of downtown, offering classes and private spaces to work in for the Capitol’s art elite, which Peeta frequented regularly.

That is, until Katniss Everdeen came along.

“Vin, you think you can keep a secret?”

“With my big mouth?” she laughed. “Do you even need to ask that?”

Peeta sighed, “Lavinia, you’re my best friend, and you deserve to know the truth.” 

“Oh my god. You have cancer or something horrible! Don’t worry, we will get you some fabulous wigs while you go through chemo—”

“No, no, no!” Peeta quieted her. “Nothing like that. It’s just… there’s a girl—”

Lavinia squealed in delight, “Ohhh this is much better news than I thought it would be! You looked so serious, I thought you were dying or something! What a relief! So, tell me, who is she? What’s she like? How long has this been going on? When do I get to meet her?”

“Uhh…” Peeta faltered, unsure how to break the news about the woman he was involved with. His face contorted into a grimace as he spat out the words: “It’s Katniss Everdeen.”

This silenced Lavinia in a way Peeta had never seen her be silenced before. She leaned back in her chair and pondered what he’d just told her, and it was a worryingly long time before she spoke again.

“Okay. I know you sponsored her in the Hunger Games… so did you get to meet her at a party? Or…?”

“She was kind of, um… a birthday present. From that Gamemaker, Plutarch, and some others…”

“A birthday present? Like, they  _bought_  her for you?”

Peeta squirmed in his seat. “Yeah…” 

“That is like,  _really_  sick. I mean, I’ve seen people with victors out in public, but I always thought it was just gossip that they were bought and sold. But that actually happens?”

“Vin, I know it’s not ideal—”

“Wait,” she interrupted him, “was it just that one time?”

“No. I kind of, um,” Peeta grimaced, “bought her with my own money this time around.”

“She’s  _here? Now?_ Staying with  _you?_ ”

Peeta sighed, knowing this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. He should’ve guessed that Lavinia would want to know everything. “No, we’re at the Capitol Hill Hotel, in one of their suites—”

“Peeta, what are you thinking? This poor girl is being bought and sold against her will! You’re not, taking advantage of her, or—”

“What? No! No. Absolutely not,” Peeta assured her. Although, he had to question himself in that moment. He wasn’t taking advantage of her sexually—even that first night, he’d asked for her consent every step of the way—but he hadn’t considered that she was being forced into the entire situation. He’d just assumed it was part of the deal of being a victor; he’d seen enough victors happily escorting the Capitol elite to social events… But if she was indeed being forced, then of course she would be scared of the repercussions she’d endure if he gave a bad report back to Effie. Maybe she’d already been punished for leaving during the night the first time, and maybe she was just saying yes to everything now because she’d felt forced to say yes.

It made him feel sick to think that she didn’t really want to be with him. Up until this point, he believed she really was enjoying his company, but maybe he was just kidding himself. For all he knew, she still had that boyfriend back in 12, and was counting down the days until she could go home and be with him.

“I know you wouldn’t take advantage of her,” Lavinia sighed, breaking his train of thought. “That’s not in your nature. But I am glad to hear you say it all the same. I just… I have to ask, what’s the end game here, Peeta? Marriage? Children? You think the Capitol would really allow that?”

“I… I don’t know,” he replied honestly, putting his head down on the table. “I wasn’t thinking about all of that yet, I was just trying to get her to like me first.”

“And, how’s that going?”

Peeta thought back over the previous night and this morning, and remembered how she had opened up to him, had accepted his shirt, has asked him to stay with her after her nightmare, had complimented his cheese buns… Surely she had some fondness for him, right?

“She said she liked the bakery’s cheese buns.”

“Well  _duh_ , those things are to die for,” Lavinia laughed.

“And… I woke her up from a nightmare, and then she asked me to stay with her, and we slept next to each other. See, I had been on the couch, and—” 

“Oh my god, that is so  _cute!!_  Maybe she does like you after all. You’re with her tonight too?”

Peeta nodded, “Yeah, I have her for the entire time she’s here. Three days.”

“Must be costly,” Lavinia tsked.  
  
“It’s not too bad.” 

“But you probably just can’t keep buying her,” she argued. “Again, what’s the end game? Are you just going to meet with her in a hotel room every time she’s here for years and years?”

“Well, no, I thought eventually…” Peeta tried to picture his life with Katniss years down the road, and drew a complete blank. “I don’t know what I thought.” 

“That’s because you’re all about the short-term,” Lavinia sighed. “I think you’ll want more than just hotel rendezvous, and either the Capitol won’t allow it or it’ll cost you much more than what you’re paying now. Men. You never think these things through.”

Peeta sighed, “Vin, I’m just trying to get her to like me and trust me for now.”

“I know. And you know I’m just looking out for you. I want to see you happy, and I don’t want to see you get hurt, emotionally or… otherwise.” She shifted in her seat as Peeta caught on to the meaning of her words—she didn’t want him getting too involved with the seedy dealings of Panem’s government. She continued, “But it sounds like you’re succeeding at getting her to like you. What did you say you were doing tonight?”

Peeta shrugged. He figured he’d do a lot of the same things he did last night—talk, get her to open up a little more, maybe get to sleep in the same bed the whole night—

“Oh Peeta, you’re hopeless. You need to take her out! Show her all the glory of the Capitol.”

“Well… she did say she’s never been to a restaurant.”

“Perfect! Oh, I know just where you should take her! I’ll call and get you a table. And we should order a town car…”

Peeta was starting to get worried—Lavinia had that look in her eye that always meant the creative wheels were turning. But he did like the idea of showing Katniss around the city instead of just having her holed up in the hotel suite in whatever sexy getup they dressed her in tonight.

“She’ll probably need something to wear—” he mentioned.

Lavinia squealed with delight, “Then it’s a  _very_  good thing you have me for a friend. I’ve got some shopping to do!”

………………………………

“Cinna, how does this look?” Venia asked as she finished doing the final buttons on Katniss’ gold dress.

Cinna studied his work with a careful eye. “It’s not sitting right,” he stated. “Here, let me…”

He dismissed Venia and moved to where she had been standing behind Katniss, and began to work with the straps of the dress.

“Stand up straight,” he gently reminded her, to which she gave a loud groan.

“I feel like I’m going to split the seams of this thing if I move,” she told him with a whine.

Cinna laughed, “You won’t. I promise.” Katniss stood as straight as she could as Cinna took a seam ripper to the straps. “Were things… okay last night?” he asked quietly.

Katniss sighed, remembering the feeling of waking up this morning with Peeta’s arms around her with… fondness? No, that wasn’t right. She tried to push that feeling aside.

“It’s been weird,” she told him once she finally decided on the appropriate emotion. “He—we didn’t… we just talked. It was… nice.”

“You sound unsure of that,” Cinna told her.

“No, it  _was_  nice,” she confirmed. “But, it shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t be  _enjoying_ myself. I can’t get too involved, I just need to get through it.”

Cinna hummed at her decision and asked, “But why shouldn’t you enjoy yourself if you can? This man is the same one who bought you before?”

Katniss nodded, “Yeah. And he’s definitely not what I expected. He’s really nice. _Too_  nice… I think he might be a Capitol spy.”

“Maybe the altitude is finally getting to you,” Cinna laughed. “You’re a  _victor_ , Katniss. No one is looking to condemn you, especially if you’re doing what Snow asks of you.”

Katniss considered Cinna’s logic, but she didn’t trust it. How much could Cinna really know of Snow’s motives? A part of her, though, wanted to believe it was the truth. A part of her hoped Peeta’s behaviors weren’t just an act, and were as genuine as they seemed.

“Not all Capitol people are as stuck up as you believe them to be,” Cinna continued. “Take me, for example. I certainly hope you consider me a friend and not just some Capitol snob who treats you like an object—and disregard the fact that you’re my own personal dress-up doll at the moment; this is business, after all.”

“Of course,” Katniss laughed.

“Now, if only I weren’t attracted to men…” Cinna sighed, and Katniss’ eyes became wide as saucers.

“You  _are?_ ” she asked in disbelief, turning to look at him.

Cinna arched an eyebrow at her, “You didn’t know? I thought it was pretty obvious…”

“Uh, I guess… I didn’t know, that kind of thing could, um, could happen…” she sputtered.

“My point is,” Cinna interrupted, saving her from putting her foot in her mouth, “you deserve happiness wherever you can get it, even when you’re being forced into this situation. And it sounds like this man could make you happy, if you open yourself up to the possibility.”

Katniss sighed and tried to imagine how it would be if she took Cinna’s advice. Maybe instead of feeling trapped this morning in Peeta’s arms, she could’ve felt… cozy. Safe. Loved? Maybe if she was lucky, he could just keep buying her whenever she was in town, and she wouldn’t have to be with anyone else. That thought put a smile on her face—if someone else bought her, who knows what he or she would be like? But she certainly could look forward to seeing the baker with kind, blue eyes.

“All finished,” Cinna declared as he clipped one last thread from the back of her dress. He patted her on the shoulder and told her, “Be happy, Girl on Fire.”

She nodded back at him. She  _was_  going to try to take his advice, and let her guard down just a little so that she could try enjoying herself for once.

…………………………..

Katniss walked carefully behind Effie, her strappy heels catching on the lush hotel carpet and making her trip over her own feet. Tonight she was in all black, the color of coal, and even had some black makeup smudged over her eyelids which Cinna called “the smoky eye.” She felt ridiculous and exposed—she just could not get used to only wearing lingerie underneath a thin coat.

“Here we are,” Effie announced as they stopped in front of the door to the hotel suite. Effie hesitated for a moment and cast her eyes downward. “I know this isn’t easy for you, dear,” she began, “but I just want to remind you of how well you’re living now with your nice house in District 12 and these regular visits to the Capitol. Fame, fortune… It’s everything anyone ever dreams about. It’ll do you good to remember that.”

Katniss furrowed her brow. It may be what any Capitol person dreamed about, but not her. She didn’t want any of this.

Of course, she could be dead right now, which would’ve left Prim alone and defenseless against the world. She was lucky to still be there for her.

“I know,” she replied, despite herself. “Thanks.”

Effie smiled at her, “I’ll be back to fetch you in the morning, dear.” She unlocked the door and Katniss slipped inside.

She found Peeta waiting for her, dressed in a black suit with red accents, his hair slicked back and styled nicely, and a smile taking over his face.

“Hi,” she greeted him cautiously. She wasn’t sure what to make of him, so dressed up. She had to admit, his good looks were only amplified in a well-tailored suit.

He crossed the room and took her hands. “Hi,” he replied, “I have a surprise for you. But first, you need to change out of whatever outrageous costume they’ve dressed you in and put on the outfit that’s hanging in the bathroom.”

“Wh—why?” she asked shakily, nervous as to what he had in store for her.

His smile grew wider, “Because, we’re going to do this right. I’m taking you to a restaurant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was downright fluffy, at least by THG fanfic standards. All I can say is, enjoy that while it lasts, kiddos.
> 
> Yes, I made Lavinia a loudmouth. Quite ironic, no?
> 
> And yes, I also made Cinna gay. I’ve never thought Cinna was straight, and I figure the Capitol actually reveres gay people—after all, they keep the city running by introducing new trends and new fashion for people to buy. Now that’s an economic platform I could get behind! ;)
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone!! Consider this a holiday gift from me, because after a long hiatus I am finally back at work on this story. I am also thrilled to be back working with Phantom Serenity (ff.net), who is the best beta on the planet.

Katniss tried to remember to breathe as the black car with tinted windows made its way down the main avenue of the city center. She could hear loud music coming from the many nightclubs that lined the street, and everywhere she looked brought an onslaught of neon lights to her eyes. The sights and sounds literally left her breathless.

She had never experienced the nightlife of the Capitol. The parties she had attended since being crowned victor had been in the residential cul-de-sac surrounding President Snow’s mansion, where the wealthiest of the Capitol lived, and were breathtaking in their own right—extravagant, opulent, and wasteful.

Those parties were tame in comparison to what surrounded her now.

It was all very overwhelming, mainly because she knew she didn’t fit in with any of it. She gazed down upon her short, sheer dress with black lace overlay, and felt exposed. She knew this was what Capitol women wore—it was even somewhat subdued—but she still felt uncomfortable in it. She thought back on all the dresses she had tried on that day for Cinna, and couldn’t imagine wearing any of them out in public.

“We’re going to _Ignatius_ ,” Peeta told her, pointing to a large black building near the end of the block. “Fire is a very big trend right now, for obvious reasons. Ten years ago, this very restaurant served seafood and had a water theme. Things are always changing with the trends.” 

He smiled reassuringly at her, and she felt warmth spread from her chest through her entire body, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about. As the car approached, she could see the blackness of the building had a faint red glow to it, almost as if the building were made of smoldering coals. It reminded her of the best and worst parts of home—her father, the mines, and the way soot covered the homes in the Seam.

But then she was struck with terror as she noticed several people with cameras standing around, waiting to take photos of anyone who went inside the restaurant. She could see patrons being pestered to pose and comment on the food, their dates, what they were doing later that evening, and it made her very nervous. She sat up straighter in her seat and felt her heart begin to race.

“Uh, Peeta…” she choked on her words.

Peeta looked out the window at the waiting paparazzi and let out a soft gasp, “Oh, shit. Um, driver, could you take us to the back entrance, please?” 

The driver nodded and turned in the driveway just past the restaurant, through a gate that Katniss knew instinctively was electrified and in good working order, finally stopping in front of a set of ornate black doors. Peeta quickly jumped out and offered his hand as she stepped onto the pavement. She almost tripped over herself as she found her balance in high heels, but with her arm in his, he gracefully led her inside.

A hostess podium was set up at the back of the restaurant to greet private guests, and so the pair was luckily able to be discreet as they were seated at a booth in the corner of the restaurant.

“Thank you for noticing the paparazzi,” Peeta said abashedly. “I’m so sorry; I didn’t realize they’d be there.”

Katniss sighed in relief, “I’m just glad we didn’t have to deal with them.”

A waiter rushed to the table to take their drink orders, and Peeta ordered a bottle of wine for the two of them.

“Have you ever had wine?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“My friend, Madge, has tasted some before. Her father is the mayor and sometimes he’ll have wine at his parties. She says it tastes like bitter fruit juice.”

Peeta laughed, “Yeah, I guess that is what it tastes like, but there is a lot of variety—red, white, dry, sweet, sparkling… I like sweeter wines, so hopefully the one I got won’t be too bitter for you.”

“Thank you,” she offered, not knowing anything better to say.

“So you’re friends with the mayor’s daughter?” he asked, still so curious about her life in the outlying district. He felt like he could never learn enough about her.

Katniss shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. I mean, we sit together at lunch, but only because there’s no one else to sit with. She’s very shy.”

“And what about you? Why don’t you have anyone else to sit with?”

“Well, Prim and Gale have different lunch times than me,” she explained, which struck a nerve with Peeta. He still hadn’t figured out who Gale was to her—was he her boyfriend? Did she like him? He had to figure this out before things got too far. Katniss continued, “And, I guess I’m just too busy for friends.”

“Why is that?” he inquired, his curiosity focused back on her elusiveness.

She let out a breath that she felt she’d been holding for ages. “I have to provide for my family,” she told him plainly, which only piqued his interest more.

The waiter delivered their bottle of wine and took their dinner orders, and Peeta took the liberty of silently filling their glasses as he let her words sink in. He knew about providing for family—after all, the bakery had been staying afloat thanks to his artistic talents for years—but he wondered what it looked like in Katniss’ world to provide.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her a glass. “Make sure to just take small sips, or it’ll dry out your mouth very fast.”

Katniss placed the glass to her lips and sipped the wine slowly. It did taste like fruit juice, but it wasn’t bitter. It gave her a tingle that she felt all the way down her spine.

“Tart,” she said aloud, once she had thought of the best way to describe the taste. 

“Good?” 

“Not bad,” she declared before taking another sip.

Peeta smiled at his success, and then remembered their conversation from before the wine came. “Tell me, why do you have to provide for your family?” he asked hesitantly, knowing he was pushing on boundaries they hadn’t crossed yet.

Embarrassment flooded her as she thought of how to answer his question. She had never explained her mother to anyone before—everyone in the district knew about her struggles already—and her eyes fell to the table as she thought.

“My father died when I was eleven,” she began, “and after that, my mother was… _unable_ to work. She was unable to do anything, really, and still has a lot of trouble just getting out of bed every day. I’ve been taking care of her and Prim for years. It’s my responsibility.”

She looked up then and found Peeta gazing at her with compassion in his eyes. “It’s hard that she can’t be a mother to you.” he said, sensing the pain hidden in her story. 

“Yeah,” she admitted. “But she and I have never been close. I was always closer with my father… We understood each other. Prim is more like my mother—delicate, I guess is how I would describe them both. But they’re strong when they need to be—if there’s an injured man from the mines, both of them spring into action. Plus, Prim has my father’s heart of gold. She is so understanding when our mother… slips away. Whereas I feel like screaming at her until she comes to her senses again.”

Katniss let her words trail off, realizing she had maybe divulged too much. She had never shared these thoughts with anyone before, and she didn’t understand why she was sharing them now, other than the fact that it just felt right.

Peeta placed his strong hand over hers. “I know what you mean,” he said quietly. “My mother can… lose herself too, although not in the same way yours does. But it still makes me just as angry.”

“How does your mother lose herself?” Katniss asked, finding herself genuinely interested; she had never thought of Peeta as someone who had hardships in his life.

He sighed, collecting his thoughts, and explained, “When she’s angry, she gets into these… rages. She becomes violent, and… she beats me and my brothers.”

“What?” she gasped as if the wind had been knocked out of her. While her parents had never laid a hand on her and Prim, she knew children who were given spankings as punishment. But this didn’t sound like that at all. “It’s not just when you’ve done something bad, is it?” she asked cautiously.

“She claims it is,” Peeta clarified. “But it’s not… reasonable. It’s just because she’s angry, and we’re in the path of her warfare.”

Katniss shook her head in disbelief. “How? Why…?”

“My mother and father didn’t choose to marry one another,” he sighed, knowing this didn’t justify her behavior, but hoping it would shed light on the reasons for her rage. “Their families made the match in order to combine their wealth, and my father was in love with another girl when the match was made. So he fought the marriage, and lost, obviously. I think part of her anger is the pain of simultaneously feeling rejected by my father, and being stuck with him for the rest of her life.”

“That’s awful,” Katniss breathed. She couldn’t imagine such a life—her mother and father had fallen in love, and had gone against the wishes of her mother’s parents in order to be married. They were a happy family, something she now realized to be a luxury.

“My mother also… wanted a daughter,” he continued forlornly, “more than anything else in the world. And she ended up with three sons. And with me, there were complications with the delivery, so she had to give up her dream of having a daughter—having any more children—in order for me to live.” Peeta sighed, “I _know_ she resents me for it.”

Katniss’ hand moved to grip his. “Don’t say that.” 

“It’s true though,” he protested. “I always got it the worst out of all of us, even when I tried to please her, even when I took an interest in the business, even when I brought home good grades in school and was on my best behavior… She still only looks at me as the child that ruined her last chance at happiness, and… and she still takes it out on me.”

Anger flared inside Katniss with hatred for this woman. Could she not see his kindness? His gentle nature? His humility? It boggled Katniss’ mind that he was so understanding and gave her so much respect, in spite of the terror she brought on him.

“You don’t deserve to be treated that way.” she said sternly, barely masking her own anger.

Peeta gave a sad smile in return. “And you don’t deserve to live with the nightmares of what happened in that arena.” He glanced up and found her eyes now filled with unspeakable pain as the terrifying images came flooding back to her. He grabbed her hand and held it tight, willing her flashbacks to stop. “Katniss,” he called to her, and her eyes refocused and found his, “I may not know what it’s like to fear for my life the way you did for yours, but I know what it’s like to live in fear. And, maybe we both deserve better than what’s been given to us.”

It was as if his words unlocked the vice grip in her lungs, and she was once again able to breathe. She let out a heavy sigh and nodded her head in agreement; managing to give him a small smile as their food arrived, sizzling over a bed of black charcoal.

………………………………………….

“What are you doing?” she asked to herself in her head as much as she asked out loud to him.

Peeta glanced up from where he was standing near the couch in the hotel suite. He had just spread out a blanket for himself, assuming that he would not be welcome to share a bed with Katniss after what had happened this morning.

Apparently he was wrong.

“Please, stay with me,” she sighed, gesturing to the bed. Her mind was full of turmoil as she spoke the words, and it killed her to admit that she needed him beside her as she slept, but she knew the nightmares would come if she didn’t have him close. She nervously played with the end of her braid as she said in a whisper, “You, um… I feel safe, with you here.”

A blush slowly spread across Peeta’s face as he absorbed the compliment that was being given to him. He understood what a struggle it was just to have her say the words, and he was truly elated by her declaration. He smiled shyly at her and made his way to the bed, barely able to look at her in the sleep shirt he had brought for her—it made him entirely too excited to see her dressed that way.

They stood awkwardly on opposite sides of the bed, waiting for the other to move first, stealing glances at one another every other moment. Neither one was good at dealing with the enormous amount of tension that filled the room.

“Well, goodnight,” Katniss finally said, quickly shutting of the lamp on her side and climbing into bed, turning her back to him.

“Oh, um, right. Goodnight,” Peeta replied, following suit. He sighed as he lay in the darkness, listening to her breathing. He could tell she wasn’t asleep yet, but decided to leave her in peace—she had opened up so much tonight, and he felt lucky they had made it this far.

Slowly his eyes drifted closed and he fell into a soft slumber.

Katniss found it much more difficult to fall asleep. She tried to slow her breathing and close her eyes, but she could feel the anxiety in her body and knew she’d never fall asleep feeling this way. She tried to think of ways to relax, and then remembered what she had thought about earlier that day: instead of feeling uncomfortable or trapped with Peeta, perhaps she should try to think of being close to him as cozy, protected.

She had said the words to him, but somehow had forgotten the feelings herself—she felt safe with him there, his soft breathing inches away bringing a smile to her face. Her mind lingered over the glances her gave her at dinner, and the calloused feel of his large hands, and she soon found her muscles loosen and her eyelids getting heavier. 

In this world filled with dangers, she was grateful to feel safe with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am at work on future chapters, but don't expect updates too frequently--I'm trying to strike a balance between writing and my hectic real life. Hope you enjoyed this update!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a roller coaster ride of a chapter, so hang on to your hats!!
> 
> All the thanks in the world to Phantom Serenity (on FF.net) for beta'ing and giving me awesome feedback. You rock!!
> 
> Enjoy!

She found herself in the woods—in the _arena_ , she knew instinctively. Her paranoia kicked in, and she frantically turned in every direction for danger, but could only see the tall trees surrounding her as far as her eyesight would reach. She was still peering off into the distance, trying to decide which way to walk, when she heard it.

She had never heard him scream before, but she could tell immediately it was _him_.

She raced in the direction his cries were coming from, and found him at the edge of the woods near a creek. A large figure was standing over him, ready to strike.

Without a second thought, Katniss raised her bow and shot the beast in the back. It shrieked in pain—she recognized it as a woman’s voice—and a heavy rolling pin dropped from the figure’s hands as she arched her body in reaction to being shot.

The rolling pin landed on the rocks with a thunk.

The beastly woman lost her balance and fell into the creek face down. The current slowly carried her body away, and it drifted in the water like a stray branch. Katniss watched, emotionless, as the woman floated out of her sight, until the only evidence of her existence was the rolling pin that lay on the rocks.

Suddenly, she felt a strong pair of arms embrace her warmly, brushing the stray hairs from her face and whispering, “You did it. Thank you. We’re safe now.” A soft pair of lips kissed her cheek, her eyelids, her nose, and warmth began to spread through her body. She smiled as her gray eyes found his brilliant blue ones, and her lips gently pressed against his. It was a lovely sensation, and she yearned for more. She pulled him closer, kissed him harder, imploring him with her body to make her feel the way she knew he could make her feel.

“Katniss,” she heard him whisper to her, and it sent chills down her spine to hear him speak her name. “Katniss, wake up…”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she realized she was in the dark hotel suite, pressed up against Peeta, accosting him in her sleep. His blue eyes were just as brilliant as in her dream, even in the pitch black of night, but were now filled with fear and uncertainty instead of the blissful satisfaction from her unconscious desires. She was instantly flooded with feelings of shame and disappointment. 

Could such happy feelings only exist inside her dreams? It hardly seemed fair.

She pondered this for a short moment, her brows furrowed, and decided that she did not have to settle for dreams. Determined to feel that pleasure again, she acted, forcing her lips onto his in a firm kiss. He was shocked by her sudden behavior, and while it was not at all unwelcome, he still wondered if she had a boyfriend back home, and if what they were doing was wrong.

“Katniss,” he breathed, pushing her away gently, “What about—”

His words were muffled by her mouth, once again covering his, and he decided that, boyfriend or not, she was going to have her way with him. She lightly ran her tongue along his bottom lip, asking him to grant her entrance, and he gladly indulged her. As their tongues danced around one another, their bodies enflamed and pressed tightly against each other, he thought to himself how he would give her anything she wanted in that moment.

Katniss was elated by the sensations rippling through her body—it was better than in her dream, better than she remembered it to be from the night they met, and she knew it could only get better with every touch. Kissing was heavenly, but she longed for more, and so she found his hand and guided him to the heat of her sex. Peeta gasped in her mouth and his eyes shot open, searching hers for any signs of hesitancy, but of course there were none. 

“Please…” she whispered against his lips, “I need…”

He nodded once, still confused by the way she had come onto him, but eager to please her all the same. Slowly he dipped his fingers underneath the seams of her panties, feeling her smooth skin underneath, before working his fingers into her folds. He watched her face as his fingers moved, watching her reactions to see what she enjoyed the most. He considered himself to be technically skillful in this area, and as he fluttered his digits against her sensitive flesh, he was delighted by the gasps and low moans that he elicited from her. She squirmed under his touch, and just as she was reaching her apex, he drove two fingers inside her and began his ministrations from the inside.

“Oh, fuck,” she cried as she leaned against his shoulder, hanging onto him as if her life depended on it. _This_ was the feeling she had been searching for, ever since he had pleasured her the first night they met, she had endured this nagging feeling that she’d want it again. And now that she was feeling it again, she knew it would be something she would always want, to have him touch her this way. As sudden as a summer storm, she felt her insides clench and release, and she fell over the edge, burying her face in Peeta’s neck and gasping for breath. She felt overheated, like she would spontaneously combust, but he held her steadily as she recovered, placing light kisses on her neck and shoulder.

Once she felt like she could finally breathe she pulled away and looked into his eyes, trying to figure out how to express the all-consuming feelings swirling around in her body. He was the first man to make her feel safe since her father, and she also felt an intense physical attraction to him, and she also respected how gentle and kind he was, and she felt a shared connection in what they both had to deal with in their family lives. It was too much to think about, and she shut her eyes tight to try and stop the emotions from bursting out of her.

Then she felt a strong hand lightly rest on her cheek and his voice say, “Hey, it’s okay. I know this is new for you… You don’t have to say or do anything more.” He kissed her chastely and sweetly, and with a sigh of defeat, she settled back into his arms for the night. She would not figure out these feelings now, she thought to herself as her eyes drifted closed, but she knew she was slowly figuring it out.

……………………………………….

“So,” Effie began in her too-cheery voice, which Katniss knew meant she was about to be reprimanded, “did you enjoy dining at _Ignatius_ last night?”

Katniss squirmed in her seat as the car drove she and Effie to Cinna’s studio. Last night had been one of the most enjoyable she’d ever had, and she didn’t want Effie ruining it. She wasn’t even sure how Effie knew about it—maybe the driver had ratted them out. But before she could get too upset at the driver, Effie produced a tabloid with a grainy photo on the front and headline reading: “Baker’s Hot Date,” and Katniss’ eyes widened in shock.

Those photographers found a way to get their picture, regardless of the efforts they took to avoid them.

The photo really only showed Peeta, his unmistakable blonde hair with the blue streaks that matched his eyes, and a gigantic smile plastered on his face. It also showed the back of Katniss’ head, but the photo was so dark, she could’ve passed for anyone.

Effie snatched the tabloid from her hands and turned to the feature story, reading, “Mellark, 19, dined discreetly at _Ignatius_ yesterday evening with an unidentified woman. Speculation abounds at who this mystery date could be—he has been connected in the past to renown mixed media artist, Augustina Palma, as well as finance minister Harris’ executive assistant, Ippolita Heronwood, but the woman he dined with was described by patrons as tall and shapely with flowing auburn hair. Our readers can only hope for another public sighting of this new Capitol couple, so that the woman’s identity can be revealed.”

Effie arched an eyebrow at Katniss in disapproval, but Katniss could not figure out what was so wrong about trying to remain private. These tabloids could speculate all they wanted, she wasn’t about to give them any information that could be used against her.

“Katniss, dear,” Effie sighed, “Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve made it look like you’re _dating_ him, when in reality you are simply his escort. Now, perhaps it is my fault for not instructing you properly on how to interact with the press—”

“I don’t want to interact with them. That’s the whole reason we went in the back entrance, to avoid them as much as possible.”

“But that is improper for a victor,” Effie corrected her. “You are supposed to make your presence known to the paparazzi, not only to avoid misconceptions such as this—” she pointed to the photos in the tabloid, “but to also publicize yourself. Winning the Hunger Games is quite an honor, and as the victor, you are supposed to perpetuate the image of—”

“Of someone who’s happy?” 

“Precisely,” Effie huffed. “You are supposed to inspire children to become future victors themselves by showing them everything they could have if they win.”

Katniss felt like she was about to be sick—she didn’t even want this life, and she certainly didn’t want to inspire anyone else to want it either.

“In the future, I will expect you to indulge the paparazzi—be polite, be open and honest about your escorting duties, and make the role look fun. Am I understood?”

Katniss nodded forlornly, wondering what they would take away from her next, now that the last pieces of her privacy were being invaded.

……………………………………

Peeta walked briskly through the Capitol streets, making his way to the bakery. He was running late today, having lost track of time in the shower. His mind had drifted to memories of just a few hours earlier, when Katniss had awoken him. He smiled at how her dreams had not seemed to be violent or frightening, but pleasurable instead.

And how he had pleasured her once she was awake as well.

They didn’t discuss it once the day finally broke, but she did appear to be more comfortable with him than before—she even laughed at a few of his jokes this morning. He was overjoyed that she was becoming more comfortable with him, and he made a mental note to himself to call Effie later that day to buy her time for the next time she was in town.

Lavinia’s words from the day before still haunted him, that eventually he would have to take another course of action in their relationship, and that he couldn’t just keep buying her forever. But he didn’t know what else to do, and so continuing to pay for her seemed like a good option, at least until he could figure something else out.

He silently slipped in the back door of the bakery, hoping there was no one there to reprimand him for being late, and found Phyl at one of the worktables kneading dough.

“Peet, what are you doing here?” he asked in shock.

“What do you mean?” Peeta replied, “I’m only a little late.”

Phyl shook his head frantically. “You didn’t get my message. You’ve got to get out of here!” he whispered harshly, approaching his younger brother and putting a firm, flour-covered hand on his arm.

“Phyl, jeez! Let go! What’s going on?”

“It’s Mother. She’s on the warpath.”

Peeta’s eyes widened, knowing that if Phyl tried to leave him a warning message, their mother was most likely mad at him. He shook off Phyl’s arm and was backing up toward the door when she came in. 

_“You!”_ she screeched. She looked like she had been raving all morning—her hair was in disarray, the vein on her forehead was prominent, and her hands were balled into fists. Peeta noticed she had a rolled up magazine in one hand. “You _stupid_ boy!” she cried, crossing the room quickly and smacking Peeta across the face with the tabloid. The edges of the paper stung him and the force of the blow forced him to stumble backward.

Phyl retreated; knowing any efforts to stop his mother would be futile. 

“What is this?” she screamed at Peeta, shaking the magazine at him. When he didn’t respond quickly enough for her, she smacked him again. “Answer me, you sorry excuse for a son!”

She unrolled the tabloid and shoved the cover in his face, where Peeta was just barely able to make out that he was looking at a picture of himself. His heart sank as he realized the context of the photo, and saw the accompanying headline. His date with Katniss was now the subject of public gossip. 

“I went out on a date last night,” he told her as calmly as possible, to which he received a smack to the face with his mother’s bare hand. He began to tremble as his mother stood over him, her face an expression of pure hatred, her hands ready to do more damage to him.

“Do you want to ruin our family’s image? We are _wholesome!_ We are _decent!_ We are _model citizens!_ ” she shouted, slapping him with the tabloid at each exclamation. “And _you_ are the face of our business now! You can’t just go out with any kind of Capitol whore! Who is she? Give me a name, _now!”_

Peeta gulped down the overwhelming sadness that was overtaking him. He knew he had to give his mother that name, or else she would just beat it out of him. Whatever abuse committed after he gave up Katniss’ name would be done anyway, and so he decided to spare himself the extra beating of trying to protect her identity.

“Katniss Everdeen,” he told her shakily.

His mother gasped, dropping the tabloid in her shock. Peeta rubbed his sore cheek as she processed what this meant, and then asked him, “The new victor? Did you… did you _hire_ her?” He nodded once, choking on a sob, as his mother roared, “You wasted money on filthy district _trash?_ On a disgusting, _coal mining_ little brat? Our family had plans for that money!”

She seized him forcefully, squeezing his arm and making him yelp in pain, as she grabbed one of the bakery’s rolling pins off of the worktable.

“When will you learn not to upset your mother?” she cried as she raised the rolling pin above her head.

……………………………………….

Katniss languidly chewed on a piece of lettuce from her salad, thinking of her hearty meal from dinner last night and wishing she could be eating that instead of this. But according to her prep team she was “getting too pudgy to be desirable,” and so she had to eat light. She laughed to herself at this—her prep team should’ve seen her when she was starving after her father died, they would’ve loved her figure then.

“The food I kill and eat eats this,” she commented to Cinna, who sat beside her, nursing a cup of coffee. They had retreated to his office for lunch at her request—she enjoyed having time to herself, and Cinna was happy to oblige her.

He chuckled at her comment, “If it were up to me, you could eat whatever you want. But the outfits you’re wearing are sample sizes, and our team worries easily.”

“Over nothing,” Katniss retorted, shoving her food away. “I look healthier than I ever have now that I’ve filled out.”

“That’s not how Capitol people will see it,” a man’s voice interjected. Katniss turned in the direction the voice came and gasped at who she saw in the doorway. She would’ve recognized the tanned skin and bronzed hair anywhere.

“Finnick Odair. It’s an honor,” Cinna stated. “What brings you here?”

Finnick stepped into the room and flashed them his perfectly white smile. “I came to speak with the newest member of the most elite club in Panem,” he told them, “Katniss, how is being a Hunger Games victor treating you?”

“Um,” Katniss stuttered. How did he want her to answer? He knew better than she did what being a victor meant—did he want her to be honest?

He laughed at her hesitation and joked, “That well, eh? Cinna, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a private audience with our Mockingjay?”

Cinna nodded, “Of course. Take as much time as you need. Katniss, you can come find me back in the studio.” And with that, he excused himself, Finnick taking his place at the table.

Once alone, Finnick’s entire demeanor changed, his expression turning serious. He took Katniss’ hand in his and explained, “Haymitch asked me to come see you. He wanted me to see how you were fairing with… your responsibilities.”

Katniss gulped, knowing now he wanted her to speak her mind, but still afraid of the consequences of doing so. “I hate it,” she finally sighed, “I’m so afraid to do something wrong, and that Prim will suffer for it. Like this morning, I was yelled at for not exposing myself to the paparazzi when Peeta took me to dinner last night. Am I not allowed any privacy anymore? Can’t I keep anything for myself and not share it with the world?”

Finnick squeezed her hand, a gesture of solidarity, and nodded in understanding. “Katniss, of course you can keep some things private. That’s not what the public wants anyway. They want the image of you that was created for them, not who you _really_ are. You can still be who you really are with the people you love, who will appreciate your true self. That’s what I do.”

“How do you do it?”

Finnick sighed, “I won’t lie, it’s difficult to maintain that public image. You have to be on your game all the time, even with buyers.”

“That’s been really tough…” Katniss admitted, “Peeta has worn me down.”

“He was your first?”

Katniss nodded her head, a slight blush staining her cheeks, wondering if Finnick knew that he was her first sexual partner as well as her first buyer.

“Some Capitol people are nicer than others, but it’s good to get each and every one on your side.” Finnick scooted his chair closer to her and leaned in to whisper, “This is really what Haymitch asked me to talk to you about; he wanted me to update you. The victors in the various districts—in 11, 8, 4, and 3, for now—have begun using their clout and resources to add fuel to the fire you started.”

This alarmed Katniss—her mind immediately went to Prim, and what would happen to her if Katniss were blamed for unrest in the districts.

“They’re speaking of your compassion,” Finnick continued, “as proof that districts don’t have to feel pitted against one another, that they can work together, that the entire way Panem functions could be different.”

“They’re saying I started all this?” she asked, still frightened of repercussions.

“Victors, who have seen the districts and know their conditions, have been quietly discussing this for years. We even have a few elite Capitol sympathizers,” he explained. “But after your victory, we could finally start talking to our fellow district citizens about our ideas, and they’ve been astoundingly receptive. You’re like the symbol of what we’re trying to accomplish, and we’re hoping to add more to our ranks, which is where you can come in.”

Katniss sighed, trying to process everything Finnick told her. She now felt her image was being used in two ways: one to sell Capitol fashions, and the other to sell rebellious ideals. She didn’t know how she felt about either position—she didn’t want any of it in the first place—but then she remembered her father speaking out against the Capitol’s unfair ways, and decided that, for the sake of his memory, she should try to help the rebels’ cause.

“What can I do?” she asked.

“Try and get your buyers on our side,” Finnick said plainly, “by any means necessary. Bribery, blackmail… nothing is really off-limits here in the Capitol.” He winked, and she shuddered.

“Is that how you do it?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He nodded solemnly, “I collect secrets, and plan to use them for the rebels’ benefit if I need to. You can do the same.”

“I… I don’t know if I can…” she hesitated.

Finnick stood from the table and showed himself to the door. “By another way, then, but be smart about it. Know who you can trust before revealing too much.” He nodded and smiled sadly at her as he said, “It was a pleasure seeing you, Katniss. I’m sure we will meet again soon.”

As she watched him leave, Katniss considered her only buyer so far, and if she could trust him enough to reveal these treasonous plans. Would he be sympathetic to them? Would he expose her as a traitor?

She knew what she wanted to believe, but wasn’t sure if her desires matched the reality of the situation, and so she decided to test Peeta’s loyalties that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those worried about Peeta, he's okay. His mother knows better than to beat him to a bloody pulp, especially since he's in the public eye. We'll catch up with him first in the next chapter to see the aftermath of that encounter.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated--I love all the smart readers I have out there!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves for another heavy chapter, folks. Angst is not really my thing, but my beta, Phantom_Serenity, (who is on AO3 now! Yay!) assured me that this chapter covers a lot of things that needed to be addressed. Hope you enjoy!

Peeta gingerly slipped a fresh shirt over his head, wincing as he rotated his left arm. On the scale of beatings he had received from his mother over the years, this definitely fell on the more severe side of the spectrum. He could already see bruises forming on the fleshier parts of his body, and had spent a great deal of time dressing the wounds that had broken and bled. The worst was on his back, which Phyl had to help him bandage. At least nothing felt broken.

He looked at the visible handprint along his jawline in the mirror and wondered how he’d explain this to Katniss tonight.

Glancing at the clock, he knew he had a few hours left in his day before they would reunite, and he grew anxious at the thought that this was their last night together. He didn’t ever want her to leave him, but he knew he wasn’t in the position to bargain for her in that way. Lavinia was right—there wasn’t enough money in Panem to buy her for the rest of their lives. And even if he did have the money, what kind of beating would he receive from his mother if he knowingly went against her wishes?

Peeta sighed in anguish, leaning on his hands against his desk. It seemed like all the odds were working against him—he had fallen for a girl who was not only completely unattainable, but was someone his mother didn’t approve of in the slightest. And yet, he knew he couldn’t make himself stop loving her, and would throw away every penny just to continue to see her.

With his mind made up—his mother be damned, his money now only for one purpose—he grabbed his phone off the desk and dialed Effie’s number.

“Effie Trinket,” she answered with a chirp.

“Effie? This is Peeta Mellark.”

“Oh, Peeta, dear! I am so glad you called. On behalf of Katniss, allow me to offer you my sincerest apologies for that misleading tabloid article. It will not happen again, I assure you. Katniss has been instructed on how to appropriately handle the press.”

Peeta stuttered, “Oh, um. That’s… thank you.” Truthfully, he had considered the fault to be his own, since he had insisted on taking Katniss out in the first place, and knew never to make that mistake again. Then he remembered why he was calling, “Um, Effie, despite the… indiscretion with the tabloid, my time with Katniss has been amazing. I’d like to reserve her for the next time she’s in town—”

“Oh, dear, I’m terribly sorry, but her time has already been reserved,” Effie interrupted, her tone mockingly apologetic. Peeta was silent for a long moment as he processed what Effie had just said—he was too late, and she was already bought by someone else. He opened and closed his mouth several times in an attempt to speak, but could not find his voice.

“But, um… What about the time after next?” he finally asked, grasping at straws.

Effie sighed, “That is when she will be on the Victory Tour, dear. She will have many other responsibilities to fulfill and will be too busy to be an escort. After that, I have not yet determined her schedule.”

“Okay, so… should I call you after the Victory Tour?”

“Of course, dear! I am thrilled you’ve been so pleased with her, and do hope you continue to desire her services.”

Peeta nodded, “Oh, um, don’t worry. I will. Thank you, Effie.”

“Lovely speaking with you! Take care!” 

The line went dead, and Peeta once again had to hang on to the desk in order to remain upright.

Someone else already bought her.

………………………………………….

Katniss smiled to herself as she slipped on the large t-shirt that Peeta had left for her, enjoying that they could now be without pretense, that he enjoyed when she was comfortable, and not sexed up like a life-sized doll.

She tried to push back the niggling thought that this was their last night together for a while, and instead focused on how best to reveal the rebellion to him. She knew she had to get him on her side, but couldn’t use bribery or blackmail. Those tactics were not her mode of operation—she was a sensible girl who hated playing games. But she couldn’t very well rush in and scare him off, so she (begrudgingly) had to be a little tricky.

Her face lit up when she heard the knob on the door turn, and she rushed into the main room of the hotel suite to greet Peeta on his way in. But upon first glance at him, she knew something was wrong. She saw the mark on his face right away, and red flashed before her eyes as she crossed to him.

“Katniss—ah, easy,” he winced as she took his face in her hands to inspect the mark. She gasped silently as her suspicions were confirmed when she held her hand up and the mark formed a perfect shadow. She locked eyes with him and he attempted to explain, “It’s not that bad, really.”

“I’ll kill her,” she growled, letting go of him and beginning to pace across the room.

“Katniss—”

“That was what my dream was about last night, you know, before it… took a turn,” she blushed slightly at her admission before going back to her seething. “I could kill her so easily, and then you wouldn’t have to suffer.”

Peeta crossed to her, forcing her to stop, and took her hands in his. “I appreciate that,” he began, “but I’ve dealt with my mother my entire life, and I can continue to deal with her until…”

Until when? He thought to himself. The question had never occurred to him, and he had assumed he’d always be under his mother’s thumb. But did it have to be that way? He glanced up at Katniss and thought of her fate, and how she was trapped in it, and wondered if things had to be that way for her too.

“Until she leaves this world naturally,” he finished. “I don’t want you looking like a murderer.”

“I already _am_ a murderer,” Katniss groaned. “It’s just no one sees me that way.”

Peeta shook his head, “You aren’t a murderer. You’re a survivor.” 

“Is that the only thing she gave you?” Katniss asked, anxious for the focus to be turned back on him.

“No. There are some wounds on my back—”

Katniss immediately turned him around and lifted his shirt, and what she saw left her speechless. Bandages covered him from his shoulders to the hem of his pants, many with blood seeping through them.

“We should change these,” she told him as she grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom.

It only made him feel slightly giddy that they were holding hands—he felt so connected to her in that brief moment. He tried to keep a goofy grin off his face as he asked, “Going to channel your mother and sister?”

She found a first aid kit in the cabinet and carefully removed his shirt. She did think of her mother and Prim’s bravery as she diligently laid out her materials on the counter. “I can do this kind of thing when I need to,” she told him as she gently tore the old bandages away from Peeta’s skin one by one.

“I forgot, you were very good at dressing your own wounds after the forest fire in the arena. It’s a good thing Haymitch sent you that burn cream,” he commented offhandedly. She stopped her work as she realized that this would be the perfect opening to speak with him, to reveal to him just how sadistic the Gamemakers really were. Peeta, however, thought her mind had retreated into a flashback. “Katniss?” he asked, glancing at her in the mirror, “Katniss, come back to me.”

He turned and found her eyes, which were dark and grave, but not far away like when she usually left him. He knew somehow she was all right, but not entirely.

“Katniss?” he whispered again.

“Is that what it looked like on TV?” she asked. “A forest fire?”

“Well, yeah. We saw a clip of a tribute next to a fire, and then suddenly the whole forest was on fire, and you were caught in the middle of it.”

Katniss choked on a laugh, amazed at the audacity of the Gamemakers, “That’s not what happened. At all. I can’t believe that’s how they made it look.”

“What was it, really?” Peeta asked as his stomach tied in knots. He couldn’t believe that what he had seen was a lie, but trusted Katniss’ account because he had seen firsthand how much her memories had plagued her. He wanted to know— _needed_ to know—everything she had been through, so that he could understand the full extent of her pain. 

“It was manufactured,” Katniss said simply. “How better for the Girl on Fire to die than by fire itself?”

Peeta was dumbstruck. He could see it all so clearly now—he knew the most tragic deaths in the Hunger Games had a twisted, ironic component to them, and he knew then that this feisty girl from the poorest district with the highest training score was never supposed to survive the Games. And she proved them wrong by winning the entire thing.

Unsure if this was the reaction she was looking for, Katniss quickly spun Peeta around so his back was once again to her. As she began to apply healing cream to his open wounds, she pondered what it meant for him to be speechless after her confession, and if it meant she could tell him more.

He stayed silent for a long time as she worked. His mind raced as he remembered his viewing experience of the Games, wondering what was real and what wasn’t, until he came across a memory that he knew he needed to tell her about.

“Katniss,” he said, looking up at her face in the mirror. 

“Hmm?” she inquired, her eyes still trained on her work.

“Did you know that I was one of your sponsors?”

Katniss stopped, looking at him inquisitively in the mirror. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“I’ve never sponsored anyone before,” he confessed, “never even thought about it, until I watched you at your reaping ceremony. You looked so fearless and determined, and I was just… drawn to you. I wanted you to survive more than I’ve ever wanted anything else. More than I wanted to win _Take The Cake._ ” 

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, fearful of where this conversation may be leading. She quickly finished the last of his dressings, relieved that her work was finished and she could run away if she needed to.

Peeta’s expression became pensive as he considered what he was going to say next. “Katniss, your other sponsor gift, the bread from District 11… I made that bread for you.”

Katniss’ mind began to spin as she digested his words. She was immediately thrown back into that memory: of singing to precious Rue as she closed her eyes for the last time; of her tiny, lifeless body dressed in flowers as the hovercraft carried her away; of the pain she felt as she considered the grave injustices of this world. The only solace she was granted after the entire ordeal was that bread, and she had always credited it as the thing that gave her the strength to carry on and eventually win.

Now, knowing that the bread came from Peeta, she finally had her answer that he could be trusted with everything—with her secrets, with her wellbeing, and with her heart. That bread had been her life force in the arena, and she knew its maker was her life force now.

“Peeta, that bread… it gave me hope,” she said so softly, he could barely hear it. He turned to her and their eyes locked, communicating everything between them that could not be said with words. _He_ was the one that gave her hope now, and she gave it back to him. Hope that their sorry lives would be worth living as long as they were together—it was an infallible truth that they both understood in that moment.

It was this truth that beleaguered Peeta all the more about their predicament. 

“Katniss, I… I’m so sorry,” he said, dropping his gaze to the floor and severing their connection.

“What? Why are you sorry?” she questioned him, feeling the onset of something awful about to plague her.

“Because, I tried to buy you again and—and you were already reserved for someone else.”

He glanced back up at her pleadingly, and saw that her eyes were dark again. It looked as though she had shut him out from their shared connection all together, and he knew she was going to start pulling away from him.

“You didn’t…” she trailed off, internally berating herself already. “When do I get to see you again?”

“I don’t know. I can’t reserve you again until after the Victory Tour.”

“That’s _three months_ away!” she roared as she stormed out of the bathroom. She should’ve known better than to think this would last. She had tricked herself into thinking this relationship was something extraordinary and that the laws didn’t apply to them. But it had been foolish to think those things, and now she knew she would have to suffer for being so delusional. “This is so typical. Everything I care about is taken away from me, why would this be any different?” 

“Katniss—” Peeta caught up to her and stopped her from pacing around the room. “Katniss, please. I’m sorry I’ve failed you in this instance, but everything else I said was true.” 

“That only makes it harder to say goodbye,” she said curtly, turning away from him.

“Can’t I still be the one to give you hope?”

She was trembling now, trying desperately not to let any tears fall. She was not about to become all weepy over a boy. “What do I have to possibly hope for?”

“Hope that… that we’ll be together again, not just because I paid money for you, not just for a few nights, but really, truly together Hope for a world where that can happen.”

“Peeta…” she said hesitantly as she turned back to him. She sniffed back the tears that had been threatening to spill and knew now was the time to finally tell him her secrets. “I actually think that world may be coming sooner than you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still sending out email alerts whenever I post new chapters, so if you don't have an account here and want to know when this story updates, you can send me a PM with your email address through FF.net (because I don't think there's a PM system in place here on AO3):
> 
> http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1418503/
> 
> Don't forget to put spaces in between your email address, or else it won't show up on the message! Thanks for reading!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! For those who saw my Valentine's Day oneshot, you will know in my author's note there, I promised smut for this chapter. And let me just tell you, I made good on my promise!!
> 
> A million thanks to the best beta a girl could ask for, Phantom_Serenity. If anyone out there is looking for a beta, she is just a delight to work with! :)
> 
> Enjoy!!

Now that Katniss knew she could trust Peeta, the secrets of the rebellion she had wanted to tell him spilled from her lips hurriedly and effortlessly. He listened with rapt attention as she described how her image was being used to spark change, that the victors in the districts were using their influence to gather supporters and create unrest, and that there were covert rebels living and working from _inside_ the Capitol. She didn’t know much more than that, but it was enough to help him understand what was going on.

As she spoke, his mind kept flitting to his thoughts earlier, how he had always lived under his mother’s thumb and hadn’t considered that this could ever change. But it had to, eventually; he realized that now. And perhaps this situation was the same. It was an unspoken truth that the Capitol ruled mercilessly—it’s why Lavinia didn’t want him getting wrapped up in their seedy dealings in the first place—and that Katniss was trapped under their thumb. 

But if a rebellion took place, she would be free. Free to love him without a contract. Free to love anyone, he supposed, although the thought made his insides churn. He wanted her to love _him_ , of course, but if in the end she did not choose him, then at least he could be happy knowing she wasn’t being forced into love. Her happiness was his utmost priority, and so he agreed to help her in any way that he could.

Katniss was relieved with his response. She not only had laid all her cards out on the table with her confessions, but had also convinced him to join her, to be on her side. Truthfully, she didn’t know what it meant to have him on ‘her side,’ just that Finnick said it was important; that once the rebellion really ignited, she would be able to count on him. Gazing at him as he nodded along, a determined expression on his face, she felt herself letting her guard down inch by inch.

When she let it slip that she hunted beyond the district fence, she almost regretted it, but luckily he showed no reproach to the news.

“I’d wondered how you could’ve gotten so good with a bow and arrow in such a short amount of time,” he joked. “I thought you must’ve snuck down to the Training Center in secret at night or something.”

“No, just… years of hunting in the woods illegally with Gale,” she responded, trying to sound nonchalant. It came out as anything but—she had never spoken so openly about her criminal behaviors, and she was still nervous saying anything about it out loud. 

The mention of Gale’s name had Peeta flustered as well. “Katniss,” he sighed, “I’m sorry if… if this is inappropriate, but… is Gale your boyfriend?”

She nearly fell out of her seat. How could he possibly think that?

“It’s just that…” he continued sheepishly, the look on her face telling him it _was_ completely inappropriate to ask, “you said he wasn’t your cousin, and it sounded like you were hiding something when you spoke about him a couple nights ago, and… I just need to know.”

The reaction that came next stunned him.

She was _laughing_.

That was not what he had expected.

“No! My god! Absolutely not!” she gasped in between fits of giggles. “Can you imagine?”

“Katniss, what…?” Peeta asked, still confused and now a bit frightened.

She cleared her throat and sobered up, adjusting herself on her chair and bringing her breathing back to normal. “He’s _not_ my boyfriend,” she clarified. “He’s my hunting partner. We work together, for our shared survival—both of our fathers were killed in the mine explosion, and we’re both the oldest in our households. I had a childish crush on him when we first started out together, but that was _years_ ago. When you first brought him up, I was just hiding the fact that we went outside the district fence all the time.”

“So… then you don’t have a boyfriend?” he questioned, and she sighed in response. 

“No,” she answered, casting her glance downward. “And I never have. I explained my home life to you last night. I have too many responsibilities to bother with a boyfriend.” 

“Not anymore,” Peeta argued. “You’re a victor, you have enough money to provide for your family for several lifetimes. And…” he hesitated to gather his courage before saying what he thought next. He knew she had opened herself up to him, and felt like she needed to hear a confession from him now. “You deserve love, Katniss. Love from someone who is devoted to you, who appreciates you… Someone like me.”

“What?” she asked, her head jerking back in his direction.

Peeta felt his face getting hot as he stared into her wide, frightened eyes, but there was no backing out now. “I… I love you. I loved you the minute I set eyes on you, and everything I’ve done since then was because of… because of how I feel about you.”

“I…” she stuttered.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he quickly clarified, “but I just had to tell you.”

Katniss dropped her eyes to the floor, guilty that he had made this declaration and she could not reciprocate. “I… I can’t say it back,” she said quietly. 

A long beat passed as Peeta absorbed her response. 

She continued, “I, um… I don’t think I’m capable of saying… _that_. To anyone. I know what I feel is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt, but… I don’t know if it’s…”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, not wanting to put any salt on the wound he had torn open. He felt so rejected, so overwhelmed with shame that she did not love him back. That she could not love him back. Why? He wondered this to himself. She seemed perfectly capable of loving—she loved her mother and sister, and had loved her father. She’d even had crushes before, and just said she felt _something_ for him. But why was the word ‘love’ so off limits? 

“I just…” she sighed, “I don’t want you to be put at risk.”

And there it was. The reason she couldn’t say the word out loud. If she did, there would be a threat put on his life, just like there was a threat on her mother and sister. If she didn’t comply with the Capitol’s wishes, then the people she loved would be punished. And with a growing rebellion, she wanted as few people as possible identified as people she loved.

Peeta felt relieved. There was hope that she could love him, especially now that there was hope that her circumstances could change.

“I understand,” he told her with a small smile. “And, I appreciate your concern for my safety. You’re… so brave, Katniss.” She glanced up at him and their eyes locked, and he felt the connection thrumming between them once again. He wanted her so badly in that moment, wanted to worship her and make her understand how deep his love was for her. He took her hands in his and asked cautiously, “Can I at least show you how I feel about you?”

She nodded, a curious look on her face. She was intrigued by his request—they had shared so much with each other in the past few days, and she trusted him enough now to indulge his wishes. 

Her hands still in his, he helped her stand and led her to the large bed, gesturing for her to sit. She settled herself at the foot, her legs dangling over the edge, and he took his place behind her. Slowly, he undid her long braid, working his fingers through her hair as they made their way to her scalp, and once he was there he slowly massaged her roots. 

Katniss closed her eyes instinctively and hummed. “That feels so nice,” she commented. 

His hands gently moved from her head to her shoulders, and he leaned in closer to her to place gentle kisses along her neck. His feather-light touch sent shivers through her body, as if it were a rippling electrical current, and she writhed as the waves undulated through her.

He whispered softly against her skin, “Do you want to know what I love most about you? You’re still the same girl that you were when you volunteered to take your sister’s place.” He moved his kisses along her collarbone and shoulder as he spoke, “They weren’t able to take away your tenacity. Your passion. Your morality. You remained true to yourself. You weren’t just another piece in the Games.”

He lightly pulled her, turning her around to face him as his hands fell to her waist and hers rested on his shoulders. Their eyes each fluttered closed as they closed in, their lips tenderly pressing against one another. It was wet, and warm, and grew feverish as their pliant lips and tongues danced around one another. They soon had to come up for air, and Katniss could not hold back her quiet moans of pleasure as Peeta nipped his way along her jawline to her ear, where he nibbled at the lobe.

“Can I touch you?” he asked softly in her ear, and another shiver jolted through her. She pulled back to look into his eyes, and she could plainly see the hunger there. She nodded breathlessly, eager to feel his hands on her, and he swept her up into another passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist tightly and he fisted the fabric of her shirt. His hands swiftly moved underneath to feel her bare skin, and he brought the shirt over her head so that her bare chest was exposed. He had never seen her breasts in the light, and they looked simply delectable, like ripe, juicy peaches on a summer’s day.

He brought his hands to them and felt their weight, his thumbs running delicately over the hardened nubs, and she gasped in delight when he put his mouth on one. He loved that he could make her react to his touch in that way, and so he was overjoyed when he flicked her nipple with his tongue and she moaned his name. Her hands flew into his hair, gently tugging rhythmically as his mouth glided over her smooth mounds, kissing, sucking, licking his way along. She could feel the incessant heat pooling in her core, and knew that she needed relief that only he could provide.

He stopped briefly to look up at her, and when he did, she peered down at him to see what he was stopping for. Their eyes locked and the passion they saw burning in one another was overwhelming. Peeta swallowed with an audible gulp and moved his hands to the hem of her underwear.

“Can I touch you down here?” he asked, running his fingers along the fabric.

“Please,” she whispered in return.

He pulled her panties down, revealing her hairless sex, and immediately he began to salivate. He _needed_ to taste her, to lap up her sweet juices, and so he continued his decent down her body. He reached her wet folds and gave a tentative swipe at them with his tongue, and she almost jumped off the bed. She tasted succulent, and her surprised reaction to his touch only spurred him on, and so he pulled her lips apart gently with his fingertips to find the treasure trove of nerves that hid underneath them.

He saw the tiny bud peeking out and dove in, suckling it gently while holding Katniss’ hips firmly on the bed. She moaned and writhed in pleasure as he worked on her clit, and then slowly slid two fingers inside her, pumping faster and faster until he felt her walls clench around them. He almost came himself at the sounds of ecstasy she made, but knew he needed to be inside her when he finished, especially since this would be their last night together for the foreseeable future.

Katniss was seeing stars. She could never have imagined feeling anything so spectacular in her lifetime. She had pleasured herself before, of course, but these sensations were so nuanced, so unlike anything she had ever felt before, that she could only focus on them. The rest of the world seemed to float away as waves of orgasmic pleasure washed over her, and she felt Peeta slowly sliding himself up her body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way. 

She nearly devoured him with kisses when his lips reached hers, and a thrill shot through her when she realized she could taste herself on him. She pulled back to look into his incandescent blue eyes, and couldn’t help the giggle of delight that escaped her.

“What is it?” he asked curiously.

“I just…” she shook her head in disbelief, still wondering how he could make her feel so desired, so secure, so beloved. She had never dreamed this reality for herself, especially after entering the Hunger Games—she was sure her future had included imminent death or all joy gone from life. And honestly, there were still many aspects of her life now that were joyless, but they seemed tolerable with Peeta there. He truly gave her hope that things would change, and that no matter what, he would be there for her. 

She kissed him tenderly and felt him rock hard against her thigh, and she knew she needed to feel him inside of her so that she could hold on to that feeling in the months they would be apart. She shifted so that he was poised to enter her, which took him by surprise.

“Katniss… are you sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I do, you know… feel the same way you feel. I want to show you I do, even if I can’t say it.”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he took in her words. She _did_ love him, and wanted him just as much as he wanted her. It was more than he ever could’ve wished for, and he was so overwhelmed by happiness that seized her mouth with his as he gently pushed his way inside her. Her groans of pleasure were muffled by his kisses as he began rocking back and forth, sliding in and out of her with increasing speed. Her eyes rolled back in her head every time he hit just the right spot at the peak of his thrusting, and she wrapped her legs around him so that he could be granted even deeper access.

Peeta couldn’t help but notice how different this time was from their last. When they had first been intimate those weeks ago, Katniss had been putting on an act—appearing confident and dominating, but becoming stiff and frightened once he was inside her. But this time he could tell she was letting herself enjoy the experience, and felt completely comfortable in her own skin. It inspired him to be more candid.

“Katniss? Would you like to… switch positions?” he asked as he slowed his thrusts.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, um…” He disentangled her legs from behind him and sat back on his knees, trying to figure out how best to go about this. “I, um, saw this in a movie once. Here, just turn to your side…”

She did as he instructed, rolling onto her left side and shifting around his legs so her left leg was tucked in between his. Her right leg wrapped itself around him, and she twisted her top half to be able to face him still. It was a strange way to position her body, but not uncomfortable.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

He withdrew from her and pushed back in again, and Katniss’ eyes widened in surprise at how different this felt from their previous position. She could feel the different sets of nerves that he was stimulating with each push, and was driven right over the cliff of her orgasm when he reached down and began massaging her clit. She leaned up and captured his lips, bracing herself on his shoulders as she felt him shudder and pulse inside her, spilling his seed into her body. She actually found herself enjoying the feeling of it, instead of feeling used like a disposable tissue; she relished having a part of him inside her. 

After their climaxes had subsided and they didn’t need to hang onto each other for dear life anymore, they smiled blissfully at one another and slowly untangled themselves and settled back into the bed, Katniss’ head resting on Peeta’s broad chest. They remained in a comfortable silence, having said all that needed to be said with their bodies, and neither wishing to ruin the moment by discussing their impending separation the next morning.

Katniss allowed herself to grin as she thought of the hope Peeta had given her, that perhaps they could be together if the rebellion was a success. That the rebellion might be a success _because_ of the love they shared.

Peeta’s mind was turning over and over about how he could possibly get to see Katniss sooner, knowing the torture would be endless unless he was counting the days until she could be in his arms once again. He needed to have a future date to hold onto; it was the only thing that could make his life bearable.

 By the time his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep, he had come up with a plan.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry for the long wait! (At least it wasn't a months-long hiatus?) Real life has been crazy busy, but things are slowly calming down, which means I can get back to writing!!
> 
> Huge thanks to Phantom_Serenity for beta'ing--she enjoyed the plot progression in this chapter, and I hope you do too!!

“I can’t believe I won’t see you next time I come to the Capitol.”

“Don’t worry. I told you, I have a plan.”

The incessant knocking on the doors to the suite grew louder and more frantic as the lovers whispered their goodbyes.

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll find another way. I promise.”

“Katniss, dear! We are going to miss our train!” Effie called from the hallway.

“Be careful.”

“I love you.”

She latched herself onto him for one final, passionate kiss, and then ran to the doors, leaving Peeta with his arms still outstretched, as if she had become invisible in his arms.

“Sorry, Effie,” Katniss apologized as she slipped out of the suite, leaving Peeta feeling very alone. He tried not to let the weight of his sorrow overtake him, instead focusing on what he had to do next.

He _would_ be with her again, come hell or high water. 

His mind drifted to the times they’d expressed their love before she had to leave him. Once had been in the middle of the night, when a loud ruckus on the streets below roused them, and he could not resist kissing her sleepy eyelids. This of course led to kissing and caressing all over her body, and she caressing his. The other was this morning, when she invited him into the shower; he relished the feeling of their soapy bodies sliding against each other. Afterward she lovingly teased him about needing to style his hair just so, and he was mesmerized as she wove her fingers through her hair into a braid.

It was very clear to him now that she brought true purpose to his life, and that everything else was trivial without her. Now, more than ever, he was determined to be together with her again, and he was pretty sure he knew who to reach out to for help.

He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and accessed his contacts, scrolling until he found who he was looking for. He pressed ‘call’ and put the phone to his ear.

“Peeta, my boy! What a pleasant surprise hearing from you!” a jolly male voice answered. “What do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“Well, Plutarch, I was wondering if…” Peeta hesitated, remembering Katniss’ explanation of the rebellion, and he suddenly became worried that the call was being monitored. “Well, I’d like to talk to you in person… Are you available to meet sometime soon?”

“Of course!” Plutarch laughed. “Anything for one of our favorite young sponsors. But, you have Fulvia’s number, don’t you? She makes all my appointments.”

“Well, um…” Peeta squirmed, trying to figure out how best to convey his need for discretion. “What I need to talk to you about is rather… sensitive, so I wanted to speak to you directly.”

Plutarch hummed, “Ah, I see. Well, in that case, why don’t we meet for lunch today? Come by my office around noon.”

“Oh, that’s great, thank you,” Peeta sighed, relieved that he would get to put his plan into action so soon. “I’ll see you then.”

“Splendid! Take care, my boy,” Plutarch replied, and then the line clicked to disconnect.

Peeta set the phone back down on the nightstand, letting out another heavy exhale. With any luck, his plan would be in motion by the end of the day. 

……………………………..

Katniss picked at the food on her plate as the train sped along. She found that her appetite eluded her, the reason why being obvious. She couldn’t stop thinking of Peeta, couldn’t stop worrying over whether she would ever get to see him again. Would her trips to the Capitol always be reserved for other buyers from now on? Would he not want her after someone else had violated her? Was she putting him in danger by telling him about the rebellion? Her head was flooded with questions she could not answer.

“That is excellent!” Effie chirped into her phone as she sat back down at the table. She had left the dining car to take the call, and Katniss assumed that her reentrance meant the conversation was about to end and she could resume her meal.

“We look forward to doing business with you. Ta ta!” Effie smiled proudly as she set the phone down, telling Katniss, “You just booked your final suitor for your next trip to Capitol, my dear! I must say, in all my years as the District 12 escort, I have never felt more popular!”

Katniss’ stomach sank as Effie cackled in delight.

“My final suitor?” Katniss asked. “I thought… I was already booked for my next trip.”

Effie gave her an incredulous look, “Oh, not at all, dear! I just booked this last one now. Wherever did you get that idea?” The silence hung in the air as Katniss processed what this meant, and Effie, too, figured out what must’ve happened. She giggled softly to herself, “Oops! Well, I suppose I did tell a little fib. But only to increase your client base, dear. You can’t very well be monopolized by one suitor.”

Katniss saw a flash of red before her eyes as she realized the depth of what Effie had done. She had _lied_ to Peeta, just to keep him away. Katniss stood quickly, knocking her chair over, and shoved all the magnificent Capitol food off the table. It made a loud crash as it hit the floor, and Effie gasped in horror.

“Katniss! Manners!” she scolded as Katniss stormed out of the room.

……………………………..

“There he is!” Plutarch greeted Peeta, putting a friendly arm around him. “I don’t think I’ve actually seen you since the Sponsors’ Gala. I can’t tell you how much I still think about that delicious cake you made.” Plutarch laughed and held his belly as they walked toward a bank of elevators, “If you weren’t already aware, I do enjoy indulging myself.” 

“I’d be happy to make another for you,” Peeta chuckled politely, trying not to fidget. He was nervous about when exactly to tell Plutarch the purpose for their visit, but he knew he had to do it soon, before they ventured out in public. “Um, Plutarch, I asked to meet with you because… I have a favor to ask.”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside.

Plutarch smiled jovially as he pressed the button for the ground floor. “Absolutely,” he affirmed. “Anything you need, I’m happy to help—”

“I’d like to buy Katniss’ freedom,” Peeta confessed quickly, spitting the words out as if they were poison. He glanced over at Plutarch, who had a quizzical expression on his face—not angry, not surprised, but not smiling either. Peeta continued rapidly, “I just… well you know I spent the one night with her, but I just had her again for the last three nights, and she’s so amazing and strong and caring, and she doesn’t deserve to live like this, and I know I don’t have as much money as it probably takes, but I’m willing to give you what’s left of my winnings, which is still a lot—”

Peeta’s word vomit halted when Plutarch pressed the emergency stop on the elevator, grinding their car to a halt.

Plutarch turned to him, his face still unreadable, and asked, “You stand with the Mockingjay, then?”

Peeta’s eyes widened at the mention of Katniss’ coded name, realizing that Plutarch knew about the rebellion. But did he know it as a rebel himself, or as someone working to suppress the rebellion?

He knew he could just feign ignorance and ask Plutarch what he was talking about, which was surely the safest option. But then he thought of the promise he made to Katniss, how he would be on her side no matter what, and realized that this was the time to keep that promise.

“Yes, I stand with her.”

“Very well.”

Plutarch pulled a square-shaped key from his pocket and inserted it into the console of the elevator. The car began to move again, except this time, no buttons for a specific floor were lit.

“Where are we going?” Peeta asked.

Plutarch smiled at him for the first time since his confession, and told him cryptically, “The Underground.”

The elevator stopped abruptly and the doors opened, revealing a command center of sorts—what Peeta had always imagined the Gamemakers’ control room looked like—with humming monitors surrounding every wall and people busily milling about, typing and chattering into phones. Several people stopped to stare as the two of them made their way to the other side of the large room, but no one questioned Peeta’s presence. 

“Plutarch!” a young man called as he ran toward them, waving a piece of paper. “Word from Cecelia, she was able to organize some of the schoolteachers in Eight. Most are just ones who’ve taught her children, but there were a few from the higher school as well. They’re planning to begin various lessons on corrupt governments.”

“Excellent, but have her warn them about making the lessons too overt,” Plutarch advised. “There are Peacekeepers in the schools now, and they would not hesitate to take them away.”

The young man nodded and ran off as quickly as he’d come, and Plutarch continued walking toward a large door. Peeta stayed close behind him, overwhelmed by the revelations he was having. Plutarch was a rebel, and not just any rebel, but one of the higher ranking ones. He could very well be the driving force of rebellion here in the Capitol.

“Come in, my boy,” Plutarch beckoned as he held the door open. “We have much to discuss.”

…………………………………..

“My first day off to hunt in two weeks, and what do I get? A couple of lousy squirrels,” Gale lamented as he and Katniss trudged back toward the fence. “This barely feeds my family for three days, and my wages from the mines barely cover any costs.”

Katniss let out a huff, “Gale, I’ve told you, you can buy whatever you need with my account. No one will care, they’re happy to charge the Capitol.”

“And become more dependent on them? No thank you.”

“It’s better than starving to death,” she remarked.

“I’d rather starve and keep my dignity.”

Katniss stopped dead in her tracks, as if his words had physically cut into her. That was certainly how it felt. Outraged, she glared at him, daring him to offend her more. 

Realizing what he had insinuated, he sighed, “I’m sorry, Catnip, I didn’t mean that.”

“Really?” she questioned. “Because it sounded like you just called me—”

“I know what it sounded like,” he interrupted her before she could unleash the full extent of her anger on him. He put his hands on her shoulders and assured her, “I know you’re trying to keep your dignity. After what they did to you, what they’re still doing to you… you deserve to have them pay for you to live well.” Katniss blanched at the mention of ‘what they were still doing,’ and Gale noticed it. “Did it get any easier this time around?” he asked as they resumed their walk.

Katniss felt her cheeks heat up. She had been able to talk to Gale a little bit after her first trip to the Capitol, and while he had been supportive and appropriate, it was still embarrassing to talk about. And how could she possibly explain it now that Peeta was such a strong presence in her life?

“The same man bought me again,” she began. “And so it was… familiar. We learned to… understand each other, I guess. And…” A wistful sigh escaped form her lips, “And I almost didn’t want to leave, to be honest.”

Gale chuckled, “He was your first fuck, of course you’re going to be clingy.”

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him and then stomped ahead, disgusted.

“Hey!” he called after her, “Come on, I was just joking!”

He ran to catch up and nudged her with his elbow until she forgave him.

“Okay. Laugh at my expense, that’s fine,” she conceded.

“No, Catnip, come on. I know this guy must really be something for _you_ to fall head over heels for him. I mean, aside from your misguided crush on _me_ that you had as a silly pre-teen, I’ve never heard you express any interest in anyone. I think it’s nice, aside from the fact that it’ll never work out.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Are you serious?” Gale asked in response. “He’s from the _Capitol_. You’re from the poorest part of _District 12_. He _bought_ you to be his sex toy—”

“No, he bought me because he loves me!” she protested, and then gasped, realizing what she had let slip out. She clasped her mouth over her hands as Gale stared at her in shock.

Cautiously, he asked, “Are you sure about that?”

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep any of this from Gale now, she nodded. “He said that everything he’s ever done for me is because he loves me. And he said he was going to do anything he could to try and bring us back together.”

“Well, did he buy you again?” Gale asked.

Katniss lowered her gaze to the forest floor. “He couldn’t. Effie wouldn’t let him.”

“Then how—”

“He said he had a plan,” she said defensively.

“Catnip, I don’t want to crush your dreams,” Gale said sympathetically. “I really don’t. But I don’t see how this whole star-crossed lovers thing ends well for you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. It was tough enough to see you after you got home from the Games, and I’m amazed you were able to pull yourself out of that hole of despair they dug for you… But I don’t want you to suffer a blow you’ll never recover from.” 

Katniss’ mind flitted to her mother, still broken and grieving after all these years, and she wondered if that would be her fate if Gale’s predictions came to pass. She liked to give herself more credit, liked to think she had more mental stamina, but she couldn’t be completely sure.

Then she thought of how hopeful Peeta had seemed when she left him that morning, and how she believed with all her heart that he _would_ find a way for them to be together. That belief was helping her to keep going, to endure the uncertainty of the days ahead, and she had to cling to it.

“I know you’re just looking out for me,” she told him as they finally reached the clearing near the fence. “But for now, I just want to have hope that he’ll come through. If he doesn’t, I’ll deal with it then, but I’ll drive myself crazy if I think about it too much now.”

“Fair enough,” Gale surrendered. “So who bought you for next time?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, her voice quivering slightly. “I know it was a few different people…”

Gale stopped, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Catnip, I know you’re nervous. But you were nervous your first time too, and that turned out all right. Just remember to, uh, have fun. It’s supposed to be fun.”

“Fun isn’t really in my nature,” she quipped. “But I’ll keep that in mind, I guess. Thanks.”

“Sure,” he replied. “Now, let’s never speak of this again.”

“Done,” she agreed as they slipped past the fence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Ripe for the idea to have Effie lie to Peeta--it fit so perfectly in with how I want her character to be! Thanks again!!


End file.
